How  Grand  Avenue  Church 
Game  to  Christ 


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This  BOOK  may  be  kept  out  TWO 
WEEKS  ONLY,  and  is  subject  to  a  fine 
of  FIVE  CENTS  a  day  thereafter.  It  was 
taken  out  on  the  day  indicated  below: 


l8May'33RA 


I 


REV.  C.  A.  JENKENS 


The  Bride's  Return 

— OR— - 

How  Grand  Avenue  Church 
Came  to  Christ 


A  STORY  WITH  A  SUPREME  PURPOSE 


"Come  hither,  and  I  will  show  thee  the  Bride,  the  Lamb's  wife.' 
Rev.  21:9. 


By  C.  A.  JENKENS 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 
By  Hazel  Robinson 


PUBLISHED  BY 

C.  H.  ROBINSON  &  CO. 

Charlotte,  N.  C. 


COPYRIGHTED 

1911 

BY 

C.  H.  ROBINSON  &  COMPANY 

CHARLOTTE,  N.  C. 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED. 


<0 


TO 
LILLIE 

MY   WIFE 

WHOSE  DAILY  WALK 

HAS  SO  LARGELY  EMBODIED  THE  TRUTH 

SET  FORTH  IN  THESE  PAGES 

THIS  STORY  IS  LOVINGLY 

DEDICATED 


Yes,  that  is  what  we  are.  Not  Apostles,  but 
adapters.  I  knew  there  was  a  word  somewhere  in 
the  language  that  would  exactly  express  our  pres- 
ent spirit  and  service.  We  adapt  the  Gospel  to  the 
age.  We  preach  to  the  times.  We  do  not  stand 
back  in  those  eternal  truths  which  belong  to  all 
ages,  and  whose  musical  thunder  should  bring 
into  reconciliation  every  antagonism  and  discord. 
Yet  we  claim  to  be  of  the  old-fashioned  sort.  The 
old-fashioned  ministers  bore  scars  for  medals; 
they  took  honors  in  the  school  of  suffering;  they 
graduated  in  the  dungeon  and  in  the  wilderness, 
and  their  breath  was  like  the  fresh  air  that  blows 
round  a  mountain  top.  Do  I  speak  to  any  young 
man  who  is  about  to  enter  the  ministry?  Any  gen- 
tle, delicate,  pale,  frail  creature  who  is  going  to 
take  up  the  Apostolic  banner — at  least,  the  silken 
end  of  it?  It  is  hard  work.  You  can  make  it 
easy  if  you  please;  but  in  so  pleasing  you  offend 
God.  Wherever  this  Gospel  is  preached  it  must 
create  antagonism.  We  have  indeed,  by  a  tacit 
compact,  villainous  in  its  every  syllable,  agreed  to 
shut  up  the  unpleasant,  and  to  confine  the  dis- 
agreeable, and  to  hold  converse  only  upon  such 
topics  and  principles  as  soothe  and  comfort  us, 
and  assure  us  of  our  personal  safety.  Why, 
Christianity  began  as  a  fighting  religion.  When 
did  it  lay  aside  its  first  charter?  Christianity 
came  as  a  fire,  as  a  sword,  as  a  voice  of  judgment. 

Joseph  Parker. 


PREFACE. 


After  long  and  painful  consideration,  I  have 
come  to  the  unavoidable  conclusion  that  Chris 
tianity  is  disintegrating.  It  lacks  cohesion;  for 
having  departed  so  far  from  Jesus  and  his  teach- 
ings, it  has  no  sufficient  bond  of  union  to  hold  it 
together.  The  manly  vim,  the  womanly  devotion, 
the  heroic  zeal,  the  unquestioning  faith,  and  the 
consecration  of  the  early  churches,  are  so  rarely 
met  with,  as  to  be  deemed  practically  lost. 

Christianity  began  as  a  fighting  religion:  it 
faced  the  foe  on  a  thousand  battlefields,  and  van- 
quished him.  The  militant  hosts  of  the  new  re- 
ligion swung  their  standard  to  the  breeze,  and 
marched  under  the  personal  leadership  of  the  Di- 
vine Christ,  "who  lifted  with  his  pierced  hands 
empires  off  their  hinges,  turned  the  stream  of 
centuries  out  of  its  channel,  and  still  governs  the 
ages."  Idols  fell  from  their  pedestals,  temples 
crumbled  to  their  bases,  and,  by  the  miracle  of 
regeneration,  repentant  sinners  became  holy.  In 
striking  contrast,  churches  to-day  are  too  gener- 
ally following  human  leaders,  who  have  only  a 
human  message  for  men,  and  under  whose  weak, 
sensational,  worldly,  and  timid  ministry,  Chris- 
tendom is  becoming  both  infidel  and  pagan.  Chris- 


tians  are  magnifying  trifles  and  minifying  mo- 
mentous issues.  They  have  introduced  machin- 
ery to  do  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Excessive 
organization  has  divided  the  congregation,  and 
done  a  large  part  in  destroying  unity  and  Chris- 
tian brotherhood.  The  men  of  our  day  are  like 
a  novice  who  looks  upon  the  heavens  with  the  ends 
of  his  telescope  reversed.  He  puts  the  stars 
farther  away  from  him,  and  obscures  the  face  of 
the  sky.  So  many  now,  notably  university  pro- 
fessors and  metropolitan  clergymen,  are  turning 
the  small  end  of  the  telescope  upon  the  spiritual 
heavens,  making  the  most  glorious  truths  that 
shine  therein  insignificant  and  uncertain,  while 
God  himself  becomes  small,  and  the  Cross  and 
Hell  become  invisible.  John  Morley  wrote  God 
with  a  small  g,  which  shows  how  little  sceptics 
are.  Not  a  few  in  our  own  land  as  well  are  writ- 
ing Bible  with  a  small  b,  and  as  a  necessary  result 
are  belittling  the  atonement,  the  new  birth,  the 
fall,  sin,  penalty,  service,  and  holiness. 

What  will  be  the  outcome  of  all  this?  Can  a 
house  divided  against  itself  stand?  Can  any  insti- 
tution be  permanent  that  betrays  the  basal  prin- 
ciples on  which  it  rests?  Can  the  church  adopt 
the  world's  methods,  and  live  the  world's  life, 
without  sharing  the  world's  doom?  I  give  the 
reasons  that  impel  me  to  make  these  inquiries.  In 
the  great  battle  between  Christianity  and  the 
world  during  the  past  fifty  years,  the  world  has 
steadily  gained,  while  the  church  has  steadily  lost 
what  had  hitherto  been  regarded  as  its  impreg- 


nable  positions.    Among  these  may  be  named  the 
following : 

1.      THE  LOSS  OF  THE  BIBLE. 

Higher  criticism  has  joined  forces  with  infidel- 
ity to  discredit  the  integrity  and  infallibility  of 
the  Scriptures,  and  as  a  consequence  of  the  vig- 
orous assault,  multitudes  in  the  pulpit  and  in  the 
pew  have  surrendered  the  Bible  as  an  unerring 
message  from  God  to  man.  The  Book  is  not  the 
authoritative  guide  it  once  was,  but  has  degen- 
erated into  a  compendium  of  Jewish  history  or  a 
book  of  literature.  Thousands  of  professed  be- 
lievers do  not  read  it,  do  not  believe  it,  and  do  not 
follow  it.  The  world,  then,  ha3  in  a  large  sense, 
captured  the  Bible  from  the  church. 

2.      THE  LOSS  OF  THE  BIBLE  GOD. 

Naturally,  when  the  Scriptural  revelation  of 
the  Deity  is  discarded,  there  being  no  other  clear 
revelation  of  him,  men  lose  sight  of  the  true  God, 
because  they  have  elsewhere  no  account  of  him. 
To  great  numbers  of  church-members  the  Deity 
has  ceased  to  be  a  great,  loving,  present  God,  lead- 
ing his  children  by  gracious  providences,  but  an 
indistinct  God,  whom  they  do  not  know  and  can- 
not love.  As  the  enemy  has  strengthened  his  fir- 
ing line,  the  church  has,  in  an  alarming  degree, 
abandoned  the  God  of  the  Bible. 


3.      THE  LOSS  OF  THE  DIVINE  CHRIST. 

To  the  church,  Christ  is  not  what  he  was  fifty 
years  ago.  Believers  exalted  him  as  the  omnipo- 
tent Jesus,  conqueror  of  death  and  hell,  saving 
men  by  the  unmeasured  efficacy  of  his  blood.  No 
suspicion  rested  on  his  atonement,  no  doubt  exist- 
ed as  to  his  deity.  The  Word  was  God.  But  to- 
day he  is  but  a  man,  and  even  accredited  follow- 
ers have  crucified  him  afresh  and  put  him  to  an 
open  shame.    So,  the  church  is  losing  its  Christ. 

4.      THE  LOSS  OF  THE  SABBATH. 

Many  thinking  persons  believe  that  Christian- 
ity must  suffer  inevitable  collapse  when  Sabbath 
desecration  becomes  universal.  The  Holy  Day  is 
now  practically  lost  to  millions  of  men  both  in 
and  out  of  the  church,  and  Christianity  is  stag- 
gering and  retreating  before  the  world.  Monta- 
lembert  said :  "There  can  be  no  religion  without 
worship,  and  no  worship  without  Sunday."  Dr. 
Macleod  said:  "It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that 
without  Sunday  the  church  of  Christ  could  not,  as 
a  visible  society,  exist  on  earth."  If  this  be  true, 
how  earnest  every  child  of  grace  should  be  in 
seeking  to  restore  the  Sabbath  as  a  day  clearly 
demarked  and  set  apart  for  religious  observance. 
The  Sabbath  has  become  the  day  for  games, 
sport,  sleep,  and  big  dinners.  It  is  the  chosen  day 
for  the  display  of  fine  horses,  surreys,  and  auto- 


mobiles.  It  is  the  time  for  excursions  and  travel 
for  trains  and  trolley  cars.  Post-offices,  express 
companies,  and  telegraph  lines  know  no  Sabbath. 
Drug  stores,  with  their  cigars  and  soft  drinks, 
dairy  farms,  ice  plants,  and  in  many  parts  of  the 
country,  the  common  business  of  life  know  no  day 
of  worship  and  rest.  And  worst  of  all,  not  one- 
fourth  of  church-members  attend  the  house  of 
God  at  any  one  service,  unless  there  be  presented 
some  frivolous  entertainment  or  spectacular  per- 
formance. The  world,  then,  may  claim  to  have 
wrested  the  Sabbath  from  the  church. 

5.      THE  LOSS  OF  MARRIAGE. 

The  primal  institution  of  marriage,  coming 
down  to  us  from  the  Garden  of  Eden,  is  giving 
way.  Marriage  is  the  basis  of  the  home,  and  the 
home  is  the  unit  of  the  state;  therefore  both  the 
home  and  civilization  are  threatened.  Easy  di- 
vorce has  subverted  the  divinely  ordained  rela- 
tion of  the  sexes,  and  is  reducing  society  to  a 
state  of  freelovism.  The  world  is  snatching  wed- 
lock and  the  home  from  the  keeping  of  the  church, 
while  the  shadows  grow  darker. 

6.      THE  LOSS  OF  HELL. 

Law  implies  penalty.  Law  without  punishment 
might  be  excellent  instruction  or  wholesome  ad- 
vice, but  it  could  not  form  the  basis  of  govern- 


ment.  While  we  exalt  the  love  of  God,  we  must 
not  obliterate  his  justice.  God's  love  of  virtue 
does  not  impress  me  any  more  than  his  hatred  of 
vice.  The  Bible  does  not  make  heaven  more  real 
than  hell.  Good  and  evil  are  not  the  same,  and 
they  will  not  be  treated  the  same  way  in  eternity. 
The  prevalent  loose  view  of  future  punishment  is 
lowering  the  ideals  of  men,  increasing  crime,  and 
destroying  the  influence  of  the  Bible.  The  world 
has  captured  hell,  and  lost  heaven. 

Many  Christians  have  thus  surrendered  every- 
thing in  religion  worth  contending  for.  It  is  time 
for  believers  to  take  their  bearing.  We  must  have 
Christ  or  Satan,  Bible  or  Babel. 

To  impress  these  fundamental  truths,  I  have 
employed  the  charm  of  story,  marshalling  scene 
and  incident,  pathos  and  tragedy,  romance  and  fic- 
tion, to  arouse  Christians  to  the  danger  that 
threatens  the  cause  that  seems  to  be  sinking. 
Something  must  be  done  to  regain  the  ground  al- 
ready lost.  There  is  as  great  need  of  a  reforma- 
tion to-day  as  there  was  in  the  time  of  Martin 
Luther.  The  church  is  drifting,  and  the  world 
has  ceased  to  respect  it.  Men  cannot  be  saved  by 
beholding  two-thirds  of  the  church  like  them- 
selves, stirred  by  the  same  emotions,  and  leading 
the  same  life.  The  average  church-member 
stands  for  nothing.  Christianity  must  produce 
better  characters,  or  the  blind  will  lead  the  blind 
till  both  fall  into  the  ditch.  The  inexorable  law  of 
church  life  is  Regeneration  or  Degeneration. 

The  Author. 


CONTENTS. 


I. 

The  Gospel  of  Art. 

II. 

Human  Gods. 

III. 

Music  Is  Prayer. 

IV. 

"The  Voice  of  a  God,  and  Not  of 

Man." 

V. 

The  Humanistic  Church. 

VI. 

"I  Nominate  Jesus  Christ." 

VII. 

His  Own  Received  Him  Not. 

VIII. 

"I  Am  a  Christian." 

IX. 

The  Wreck. 

X. 

The  New  Lord's  Supper. 

XI. 

The  Valley  of  the  Shadow. 

XII. 

The  Watch-Key. 

XIII. 

The  Tie  That  Binds. 

XIV. 

The  Realistic  Art  Gallery. 

XV. 

Songs  in  the  Night. 

XVI. 

Out  of  a  Job. 

XVII. 

The  Awakening  of  Corinne  Howard 

XVIII. 

"Never." 

XIX. 

Captain  Dick  Brown. 

XX. 

The  Case  of  Colonel  James. 

XXI. 

The  Problem  of  the  Poor. 

XXII. 

Love  Rules  the  Hosiery. 

XXIII. 

Ben  Rolfe's  Institutional  Church. 

CONTENTS. 


XXIV.  The  Wages  of  Society  Is  Death. 

XXV.  The  Peril  of  the  Brownstone  Front. 

XXVI.  "Society  Is  Pagan !" 

XXVII.  Maud     Blalock     Revolutionizes     Hei 
Home. 

XXVIII.  Maud  True  to  Her  Convictions. 

XXIX.  A  Question  of  Clubs. 

XXX.  Moral  Miracles. 

XXXI.  Black  Ab. 

XXXII.  The  Finest  of  the  Wheat. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

The  Author 4 

Dr.  Arlington  laid  down  the  paper,  and  smiled     28 
''Swear  that  you  will  avenge  the  loss  of  my  soul"     31 

"Every  time  he  plays  the  fiddle,  he  says  he  is 

praying" 40 

"The  Word  of  the  Lord  Endureth  Forever" ...      41 
Dr.  Arlington  was  decorated  with  the  badges  of 
the  numerous  orders  to  which  he  belonged .  .      46 

The  Gaming  Club  led  the  procession 48 

The  popular  pulpit  orator  appeared  on  the  plat- 
form in  full  dress 55 

On  the  next  Sabbath,  Mason  Saunders  put  up  a 

clergyman  of  another  mould 71 

"So  many  questions  arose  in  her  mind" 87 

Christ,  the  Good  Shepherd,  takes  charge  of  His 

flock — Grand  Avenue  Church   93 

A  man,  with  a  face  like  a  demon,  glared  at  him 
for  a  moment  through  the  bushes,  then  dis- 
appeared into  the  darkness 100 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

"Is  you  Jesus  " 102 

The  shadows  had  grown  long  while  he  sat  at 

his  desk 115 

"Ernest,  leave  my  house  forever" 133 

Mrs.  Stuart  descended  those  marble  steps,  never 

to  return  to  that  princely  mansion 139 

"Rock  of  Ages" 151 

Si  Jones  is  converted 158 

A  rough  voice  said:    "What  will  you  have?".  .    161 

"Whiskey  or  crackers?" 164 

Corinne  Howard — known  until  the  coming  of 
John  Ernest,  only  for  her   beauty  and  her 

worldliness 178 

"The  wages  of  society  is  death" 249 

Maud  Blalock,  entering  the  room   leaning  on 
her  father's  arm,   was   the  cynosure  of   all 

admiring  eyes 268 

She  bowed  her  head,  and  wept 271 

He  held  the  Bible  in  his  hand  with  evident 

confusion  and  surprise 281 

She  smiled  as  George  and  Lady  Washington 
went  dancing  up  the  chimney  in  a  stream  of 

smoke 283 

"Black  Ab" 323 

"The  wedding  march  sounded  softly" 342 


THE  BRIDE'S  RETURN. 


I. 


THE  GOSPEL  OF  ART. 


The  sermon  was  popular.  The  theme  was  "The 
Perfection  of  Art";  and  having  pronounced  the 
benediction,  Dr.  Arlington  remained  a  few  mo- 
ments in  the  pulpit  gathering  up  his  notes,  so 
carefully  prepared,  that  they  were  themselves 
specimens  of  art,  bestudded  with  gems  of  litera- 
ture gathered  from  the  classic  treasures  of  all 
tongues.  The  discourse  closed  with  a  heavy  gilt- 
edge  of  choice  verse.  The  congregation  was 
large  and  wealthy,  and,  for  the  most  part,  liked 
this  sort  of  preaching.  The  minister  felt  no 
small  satisfaction  in  the  performance  of  the  even- 
ing, since  he  was  conscious  not  only  of  meeting 
the  expectation  of  a  majority  of  his  auditors,  but 
also  of  having  succeeded,  in  an  unusual  degree,  in 
setting  forth  art,  crowned  and  glorified,  as  the 
supreme  object  of  adoration;  art,  moreover,  in 
rendering  the  needed  service  of  embalming  in 
sacred  rhetoric  the  names  and  deeds  of  the 
masters. 


J2  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

He  mingled  complacently  with  the  congrega- 
tion, sure  that  he  would  receive  the  praise  that  so 
studied  a  sermon  should  evoke.  And  herein  the 
minister  was  not  mistaken ;  for  many  proclaimed 
it  his  best  effort.  Not  a  few  were  heard  to  say 
that  they  would  attend  church  oftener  if  they 
could  always  hear  such  eloquence;  while  Mrs. 
Stuart,  the  banker's  wife,  pressed  towards  the 
pulpit,  a  thing  she  had  never  done  before,  to  con- 
gratulate Dr.  Arlington  on  his  superb  descrip- 
tion  of  the  masterpieces  of  Phidias,  Polyclitus, 
Angelo,  and  Rembrandt. 

"Don't  you  think,  Doctor,"  said  Mrs.  Stuart, 
"that  it  would  be  too  lovely  for  the  Ladies'  Art 
Guild  to  purchase  some  statuettes  of  the  masters, 
such  as  Raphael,  Rubens,  Correggio,  Alma-Ta- 
dema,  or  even  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  to  adorn  our 
pulpit?" 

Dr.  Arlington:  "Madam,  you  are  but  predict- 
ing what  will  come  to  pass  in  the  new  age,  when 
art  shall  ascend  the  throne;  but  the  time  is  not 
yet;  the  human  mind  is  darkened;  man's  vision 
must  be  clarified;  then,  as  the  morning  after  a 
long,  dark  night,  shall  the  resplendent  day  of  art 
break  upon  a  regenerated  world." 

Mrs.  Stuart:  Then,  Dr.  Arlington,  we  agree 
that  music,  sculpture,  painting,  culture,  and  ora- 
tory are  at  last  to  redeem  society?" 

Dr.  Arlington  smiW,  as  if  the  keynote  of  his 


THE    GOSPEL    OF    ART.  23 

theology  had  been  touched,  and  replied :  "Yes ;  for 
a  thing  of  beauty  is  a  joy  forever,  and  joy  is  re- 
generation." 

Mrs.  Stuart  glided  out  into  the  vestibule,  and 
there  meeting  the  church  treasurer,  informed 
him  that  her  subscription  to  the  pastor's  salary 

was  to  be  doubled. 

The  congregation  had  melted  away  in  the  dark- 
ness; and  Dr.  Arlington  was  slowly  wending  his 
way  to  the  parsonage,  when  a  young  man  stepped 
up  briskly  behind  him,  saluting  in  a  merry  voice, 
"Good  evening,  Doctor.  Allow  me  to  congrat- 
ulate you  on  your  phenomenal  triumph  this  even- 
ing. I  do  not  go  to  church  generally;  but  seeing 
your  subject  advertised  in  the  Echo,  I  resolved  to 
hear  you.  The  theme  has  always  interested  me. 
And  it  is  not  flattery  to  say  that  it  was  timely  and 
well  pat.  Your  voice  and  manner  were  admirably 
suited  to  the  thoughts  presented  and  the  selec- 
tions rendered.  The  interpretation  of  the  "Raven" 
was  masterly,  the  caricature  of  orthodox  religion 
was  perfect.  Now,  Dr.  Arlington,"  continued 
Mason  Saunders,  a  rising  young  lawyer  of  Wood- 
ville,  "I  wish,  as  an  ardent  admirer  of  yours,  to 
offer  first  a  suggestion  and  then  a  criticism,  both, 
I  think,  in  the  line  of  your  sermon." 

"Both  will  be  appreciated,  I  assure  you;"  said 
the  preacher,  adding  with  a  bit  of  facetiousness. 


2*  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

"for  holy  wedlock  exists  between  law  and  gospel, 
and  let  not  man  put  them  asunder." 

"Very  well,"  exclaimed  Saunders  with  a  half 
laugh.  "The  suggestion  is  this:  Suppose  you  se- 
lect the  evening  lesson,  for  a  change,  from 
Shakespeare  or  Tennyson.  How  refreshing  a 
selection  from  In  Memoriam  would  be!  You 
might  occasionally  substitute  an  excerpt  from 
Milton,  though  that  would  be  too  much  like 
Genesis.  Oh!  give  us  a  rest  from  Moses,  John, 
and  Paul." 

"Indeed,"  answered  Dr.  Arlington,  "I  have 
often  had  the  same  yearning;  but  there  are  some 
feeble  lambs  in  the  flock  that  cannot  bear  such 
marked  innovations  now,  though  they  be  in  the 
direct  line  of  progress.  Now  let's  have  the  criti- 
cism, Saunders." 

"Well,"  urged  the  lawyer,  "I  think  your  allu- 
sion to  the  final  reign  of  Christ  was  infelicitous, 
especially  since  you  had  so  conclusively  demon- 
strated that  the  great  forces  that  will  rule  the 
new  era  will  be  those  springing  from  art.  If. 
then,  you  had  said  instead  'the  reign  of  art,'  there 
would  not  have  been  a  flaw  in  the  discourse.  Par- 
don my  candor,  Doctor,  but  we  lawyers  of  neces- 
sity must  be  logical." 

"Thank  you!"  said  Arlington.  "I  shall  make 
that  correction  the  next  time  I  have  occasion  to 
deliver  the  sermon.     Good  night,  Mr.  Saunders." 


THE    GOSPEL    OF    ART.  26 

Next  morning,  as  the  eloquent  divine  sat  at 
breakfast,  the  following  letter  was  laid  at  his 
plate : 

"DR.  J  AS  R.  ARLINGTON: 

My  dear  Sir: — Your  sermons  have,  for  some 
weeks,  been  attracting  unusual  and  deserved  at- 
tention, especially  the  Sunday  evening  discourses. 
You  know  that  I  belong  to  a  club,  and  we  sports 
don't  take  up  wun  the  clergy  as  a  rule ;  but  all  the 
boys  are  stuck  on  you.  Those  that  were  present 
last  evening  at  the  Grand  Avenue  Church  are 
enthusiastic  in  your  praises,  and  swear  on  the 
high  keys  that  you  made  an  absolute  hit — a  ten 
strike — you  held  both  right  and  left  bowers — a 
winning  flush.  Now,  compliments  over,  let  me 
extend  to  you,  my  good  Doctor,  on  behalf  of  our 
committee  of  arrangements  that  met  last  evening 
in  the  vestibule  of  the  church  after  service,  a 
hearty  invitation  to  repeat  at  the  next  meeting  of 
the  club,  Thursday,  8  p.  m.,  your  sermon  on  Art. 
All  the  boys  say,  Come. 

Hoping  to  hear  favorably  from  you, 
I  remain,  as  ever,  in  the  gospel  of  art,  yours, 

Eli  Robins. 
Chairman  of  the  Card  and  Gaming  Club  Commit- 
tee. 

Dr.  Arlington  accepted  the  invitation,  evidently 
pleased  at  the  prospect  of  reaching  persons  who 


26 


THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 


do  not  commonly  come  within  the  range  of  pulpit 
ministrations. 

Mrs.  Arlington,  from  some  cause,  appeared  sad. 
Her  husband's  rapidly  growing  popularity  did 
not  awaken  that  ecstasy  in  her  heart  that  might 
have  been  expected;  and  when  he  had  retired  to 
his  study,  she  buried  her  face  in  a  child's  garment 
she  was  making,  and  wept. 

Dr.  Arlington  had  made  some  visitations  in  the 
afternoon ;  but  seized  with  an  irresistible  impulse 
to  see  the  report  of  his  sermon  which  he  knew 
would  appear  in  the  evening  paper,  he  cut  short 
his  pastoral  labors,  and  hastened  homeward.  The 
Echo  contained  not  only  a  report  of  the  sermon, 
but  a  picture  of  the  preacher.  After  showing  the 
cut,  with  the  remark  that  the  artist  had  failed  in 
a  measure  to  give  the  dreamy  expression  of  the 
eyes,  and  to  reproduce  the  deep  intellectual  cast  of 
the  brow,  he  read  aloud: 

"THE  GOSPEL  OF  ART. 

DR.  ARLINGTON  THE  APOSTLE  OF  A  NEW  ERA. 


Last  evening,  the  Rev.  James  R.Arlington,  D.  D., 
pastor  of  the  Grand  Avenue  Church,  spoke  with 
tremendous  earnestness  and  power  on  the  "Trend 
and  Triumph  of  Art."  The  congregation,  made 
up  of  all  classes  of  our  citizens,  taxed  the  capacity 
of  the  edifice,  filling  even  the  galleries  and  block- 


THE   GOSPEL   OF   ART.  27 

ing  the  aisles.  Many  of  the  societies  were  out  in 
force,  drawn  by  the  magic  of  a  rational  theology. 
The  great  audience  was  held  spell-bound  as  the 
preacher  developed  the  gospel  of  the  new  era, 
illustrating  with  matchless  rhetoric  each  proposi- 
tion maintained.  He  asserted  that  the  true  gos- 
pel is  eternal  being,  having  neither  beginning  nor 
end.  Being  is  manifestation,  manifestation  is  art. 
Art  is  life,  life  is  duty.  The  Bible  is  itself  a  mas- 
terpiece of  literary  art.  The  Man  of  Nazareth 
is  a  consummate  intellectual  creation,  and  the 
Christian  life  a  social  poem.  Dr.  Arlington  inter- 
preted sin  to  mean  inability  to  apprehend  art; 
Satan,  ignorance;  hell,  discord;  regeneration,  in- 
tellectual joy;  salvation,  culture;  life,  divine  har- 
mony; death,  darkness;  virtue,  beauty;  heaven, 
success;  Christ,  the  deity  in  man;  grace,  love; 
and  prayer  means  music.  As  he  gave  this  last 
definition,  the  Doctor,  repeated,  with  amazing  ef- 
fect, the  Lord's  prayer  as  a  specimen  of  sacred 
art,  while  the  organ  sounded  softly;  but  the  one 
incomparable  hit  of  the  evening  was  the  rendition 
of  the  "Raven."  This  brought  down  the  house, 
and  the  preacher  was  encored  to  the  echo. 

The  Gospel  has  a  new  ring  as  uttered  by  Dr. 
Arlington;  old  things  are  passed  away,  and  ail 
things  are  become  new.  At  all  events,  his  inter- 
pretation is  a  relief  to  many  minds,  wearied  with 
the  puzzles  of  an  outworn  faith ;  for  the  old  creeds 


28 


THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 


are  dead,  and  the  age  demands  new  expressions 
of  truth.  A  candle  served  our  fathers,  but  when 
the  electric  lamp  blazes,  the  tallow  dip  disap- 
pears." 

Dr.  Arlington  laid  down  the  paper,  and  smiled. 


CHAPTER  II. 

HUMAN  GODS. 

In  the  next  column  of  the  Echo  was  an  account 
of  a  terrible  accident.  Eli  Robins,  Woodville's 
notorious  sport,  that  very  morning  after  mailing 
his  invitation  to  Dr.  Arlington,  had  fallen  while 
attempting  to  board  a  moving  trolley,  and  was 
fearfully  crushed.  He  was  taken  to  the  Park 
Hospital,  fatally  injured.  Mrs.  Robins  bent  over 
the  sufferer,  asking  whether  he  would  like  the 
pastor  to  call.  A  flush  came  to  the  pallid  cheek,  a 
frown  contracted  the  clammy  brow,  while  poor 
Robins  gasped  between  the  paroxysms  of  his 
agony,  "He  preaches  art,  I  need  Christ — Oh! 
these  pains! — Hold  my  head,  Nannie — there — 
ouch!  Oh! — I  wanted  to  live  by  art — ouch! — 
but  I  want  to  die  by  faith — Ouch !  ouch ! — my  life 
has  been  vain  and  frivolous.  I  joined  the  church 
in  my  youth,  and  sometimes  ,  Nannie — ouch ! — 
lift  my  head  a  little — sometimes  I  had  spiritual 
aspirations,  but — Oh !  these  pains — hold  me  tight, 
Nannie,  I'm  shivering — but  the  doctrine  of  art 
quenched  them — Let  me  breathe  a  moment — Art 
may  do  for  a  gaming  club,  but  it  is  a  poor  thing 


30  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

for  a  dying  bed — Let  me  rest  a  bit — Tell  the  boys, 
Nannie,  that  art — Oh !  these  pains  are  growing — 
Ouch! — that  art  doesn't  give  any  comfort  to  a 
dying  man — I  am  sinking,  Nannie.  The  shadows 
are  falling  darker ;  have  the  physician  out.  Now ; 
kneel  down  beside  me ;  put  my  hand  on  your  head ; 
— let  me  breathe — now  swear  by  the  hope  of  im- 
mortality that  you  will  avenge  the  loss  of  my  soul, 
as  far  as  you  can,  by  blighting  the  ministry  of 
this  spiritual  murderer — mur-mur-derer !  Let  me 
rest — rest;  it  is  getting  so  dark,  Nannie.  Now, 
raise  your  right  hand,  dear — that's  it !  and  swear 
by  the  everlasting  Name  that  Grand  Avenue 
Church  shall  know  that  I  die  hopeless  and  my 
blood  crieth  unto  God  from  the  pulpit." 

"I  swear  it  shall  be  so !"  and  her  hand  fell. 

Eli  Robins,  gasping  heavily,  threw  up  his  arms, 
huskily  groaning,  "Lost  by  art!"  and  shut  his 
eyes  forever  on  the  things  of  time. 

Robins  was  a  well-known  character  among 
sporting  circles  in  Woodville,  holding  extensive 
interests  in  brewery  stock,  and  a  controlling  finan- 
cial influence  in  the  West  End  Race-Track ;  whilst 
withal  he  was  a  member  of  Grand  Avenue  Church, 
in  which  he  rented  a  pew  that  he  prized  as  highly 
as  any  stock  he  owned  of  the  same  cost.  He 
often  expressed  his  belief  that  every  man  ought 
to  have  a  sitting  in  a  church,  because  it  gave  him 
social  nosition,  and  increased  his  revenues  from 


"Swear  that  you  will  avenge  the  loss  of  my  soul. 


HUMAN   GODS.  33 

church  patronage.  Then  he  was  a  friendly  man ; 
and  often  boasted  that  he  was  no  respecter  of 
persons,  but  loved  pagans  and  Christians  alike, 
Ingersoll  and  his  pastor  without  distinction. 

The  funeral  pr  ocession  slowly  wound  its  way  to 
the  church.  It  was  Thursday  afternoon — only 
four  days  since  the  deceased  entered  the  sanctu- 
ary to  hear  art  glorified — now  Eli  Robins  and  art 
are  both  dead.  Gloved  pall-bearers  bore  the  body 
to  the  front,  and  lowered  it  before  the  pulpit.  The 
church  was  decorated  with  flowers  and  flags  and 
bunting.  Above  the  organ  hung  a  life-size  por- 
trait of  the  deceased,  surmounted  by  a  crown  of 
ivy  leaves  resting  on  a  cross  of  white  roses.  On 
either  side  of  the  pulpit  stood  a  prize  banner ;  the 
one  on  the  right  bearing  this  inscription  in  gilt 
letters : 

PRESENTED  TO 

ELI  ROBINS, 

WINNER  OF  THE  WOODVILLE  TURF  PRIZE. 
BY  THE 

WEST    END    RACE-TRACK    ASSOCIATION. 
On  the  banner  at  the  left  were  these  words : 
ELI  ROBINS, 

CHAMPION    WHIST   PLAYER, 
FROM 

THE  CARD  AND  GAMING  CLUB. 


Z4 


THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 


The  fraternities  and  orders  directed  the  obse- 
quies. At  the  first  soft  notes  of  the  organ,  the 
seats  reserved  for  the  Whist  Club  were  all  taken, 
and  then  artistic  voices  sang  "The  Switzer's  Fare- 
well;" after  which  a  special  choir  chanted  Ten- 
nyson's "Crossing  the  Bar."  The  pastor  chose  as 
the  basis  of  his  remarks  the  sixth  verse  of  the 
eighty-second  Psalm :   "I  have  said,  Ye  are  gods." 

"My  subject,"  said  Dr.  Arlington,  "is  the  Deifi- 
cation of  Man.  The  world  is  peopled  with  human 
gods.  Any  man  that  perfects  any  bent  of  his  na- 
ture is  a  deity.  Any  noble  impulse  is  divine. 
Every  generous  aspiration  is  godlike.  Plato,  de- 
veloping his  celestial  conception  of  ideas,  was  a 
god.  Aristotle,  delving  deep  among  the  very  roots 
of  thought,  was  a  god.  Savonarola,  seeking  the 
regeneration  of  Italy,  was  a  divinity.  Columbus, 
with  sails  spread  to  angry  storms,  with  keel  plow- 
ing swelling  tides,  was  a  human  deity.  Peter 
Cooper,  establishing  schools  of  art  for  the  re- 
demption of  American  youth,  and  Brahma,  Zo- 
roaster and  Confucius,  striving  to  elevate  the 
masses  of  humanity,  all  take  their  rank  with 
cloud-compelling  Jove.  Dewey,  shattering  the 
war  vessels  of  a  proud  enemy — chanting  in  the 
music  of  shot  and  shell  the  freedom  of  the  op- 
pressed— is  a  god  of  battle.  So  are  all  good  men 
and  women,  consecrated  to  noble  achievement, 
sublime  purpose,  and  holy  art,  divine.    All  true 


HUMAN   GODS.  35 

architects,  artists,  musicians,  inventors,  discov- 
erers, financiers,  philosophers,  and  statesmen, 
whether  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  Moses,  Pade- 
rewski,  Beethoven,  Buddha,  or  Christ — all  are  di- 
vine— all  gods  in  their  own  way. 

"In  the  life  and  character  of  Eli  Robins,  there 
were  iridescent  flashes  of  this  human  divinity.  He 
was  an  all-round  character,  a  many-sided  success. 
He  loved  art  for  art's  sake;  he  mingled  with  all 
classes  of  men,  being  an  embodiment  of  the  di- 
vine philosophy — I  count  nothing  strange  to  me 
that  is  human!  He  was  a  genius  most  versatile. 
At  home  alike  in  the  splendor  and  glory  of  the 
theatre,  or  the  gentler  and  humbler  service  of  the 
church.  He  could  quote  intelligently  from  Paul  or 
Tom  Paine — could  interpret  the  gospel  of  Con- 
fucius or  Christ  with  equal  skill.  He  knew  noth- 
ing of  bigotry;  but  rising  above  all  narrowness, 
in  the  vast  sweep  of  his  mind  he  accepted  all 
creeds,  bowed  before  all  gods,  embraced  all  joys. 
And  it  gives  me  unfeigned  pleasure  to  announce 
that  the  several  clubs  of  which  he  was  a  member 
have  set  on  foot  a  movement  to  place  a  memorial 
window  back  of  the  pulpit  as  a  fitting  tribute  to 
one  so  worthy. 

"This  sad  service  will  be  concluded  at  the 
grave." 

And  Dr.  Arlington  headed  the  procession. 

The  Evening  Echo  made  this  statement: 


36  THE   BRIDES   RETURN. 

"This  afternoon  Eli  Robins,  one  of  our  most 
respected  citizens,  honored  alike  in  the  city  clubs 
and  the  Grand  Avenue  Church  for  liberality  of 
mind  and  largeness  of  heart,  was  interred  in  the 
most  beautiful  spot  of  our  beautiful  Willow 
Grove  Cemetery  with  impressive  ceremonies.  Dr. 
Arlington's  funeral  elegy  was  masterful,  at  times 
overpowering.  His  interpretation  of  'human 
gods'  was  as  profound  and  discriminating  as 
Cicero's  De  Natura  Deorum,  while  his  spiritual 
insight  was  as  clear  as  that  shown  in  the  discus- 
sions of  Anaxagoras.  He  drew  inspiration  from 
Zeno,  philosophy  from  Socrates,  morals  from  Sen- 
eca, escatology  from  Darwin's  theory,  and  salva- 
tion from  human  adjustment  to  artistic  environ- 
ment. 

Without  the  slightest  adulation  it  may  be  af- 
firmed, that  for  brilliant  rhetoric,  apt  quotation, 
burning  pathos,  and  beauty  of  diction,  the  pane- 
gyric has  never  been  equalled  in  Woodville." 

In  the  editorial  columns  of  the  same  issue  of 
the  Echo,  appeared  the  following  business  com- 
ment: 

"The  Eli  Robins'  estate  will  pass  into  the  hands 
of  an  executor,  suit  having  been  brought  against 
it  by  the  Domestic  Land  and  Improvement  Com- 
pany; but  it  is  hoped  that  his  large  interests  in 
the  Home  Brewing  Association  will  be  more  than 
sufficient  to  adjust  all  claims." 


CHAPTER  III. 

MUSIC  IS  PRAYER. 

Dr.  Arlington  was  sitting  by  the  open  Frank- 
lin grate  in  his  study  one  chill  morning  in  Novem- 
ber, reading  "Quo  Vadis,"  when  the  fiervant  laid 
a  letter,  addressed  in  a  woman's  hand,  on  his  sec- 
retary. 

"Ah  me !"  sighed  the  Doctor,  taking  up  the  mis- 
sive; "I  suppose  I  am  summoned  to  visit  a  sick 
mother-in-law,  or  attend  a  dying  pauper,  or  to 
conduct  a  funeral,  or,  perchance,  to  give  advice 
about  raising  children.  What  do  I  know  about 
such  things?  I  long  for  the  day  when  such 
drudgery  shall  be  done  by  the  nurse,  the  doctor, 
the  sexton,  or  the  philosopher.  This  is  poor  busi- 
ness for  the  seer,  who  dwells  in  the  sanctuary  of 
poesy,  and  divines  the  glory  of  the  coming  age." 

Woodville,  Nov.  7th. 
Dear  Dr.  Arlington: 

Please    pardon    me  for  intruding  upon  your 

time,  but  my  heart  is  breaking,  and  I  must  speak. 

Two  years  ago  my  son  joined  your  church,  and 

for  a  while  seemed  to  be  a  different  boy;  he  read 


38  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

his  Bible  faithfully,  and  prayed  regularly.  His 
life  seemed  to  be  filled  with  the  Divine  presence. 
Poor  child,  he  struggled  manfully  against  his  sins 
— which  were  many — abandoned  his  evil  habits, 
and  in  a  hundred  ways  showed  the  power  of  the 
Lord's  grace.  When  I  saw  my  poor,  wayward 
boy  striving  to  follow  Jesus,  I  felt  that  God  had 
answered  my  prayers,  and  the  burden  was  taken 
from  my  heart.  Since  his  father's  death,  I  had 
not  been  able  to  control  Rob,  and  I  had  spent 
sleepless  nights  waiting  for  my  sinning  boy  to 
come  home  from  his  wild  revels.  My  dear  sir, 
nobody  but  a  mother  knows  the  agony  of  having  a 
prodigal  son.  Paul  died  daily,  I  died  nightly.  But 
at  last,  Rob  saw  I  was  dying,  and  began  to  change 
his  life.  The  shadows  were  removed,  and  light 
and  joy  came  into  my  home.  Everybody  discov- 
ered the  change  in  Rob,  and  the  neighbors  began 
to  invite  my  outcast  boy  to  their  homes.  But  Rob 
heard  you  express  your  disbelief  in  the  miracles 
of  the  Bible  on  several  occasions;  and  since  the 
Bible  is  made  up  largely  of  miracles,  he  has  dis- 
carded the  Book  altogether.  He  says,  too,  that 
you  disparaged  the  divinity  of  Jesus;  so,  poor 
child,  he  concluded  that  if  Christ  was  not  divine 
he  was  a  fraud.  You  see,  my  dear  Doctor,  he 
could  not  understand  your  deep  reasoning,  and 
went  astray.  And  no  doubt  you  will  be  pained 
to  learn  that  a  few  Sunday  evenings  ago,  while 


MUSIC  IS  PRAYER.  39 

you  were  preaching  that  great  sermon  on  art, 
Rob  gathered  his  companions  together,  and 
spoke  something  like  this:  'Romans,  country- 
men, and  lovers!  hear  me  for  my  cause;  and  be 
silent  that  ye  may  hear.  Who  is  here  so  base, 
that  he  would  be  a  bondman  ?  If  any,  speak ;  for 
him  have  I  offended.  I  pause  for  a  reply.'  Then 
— and  the  tears  fill  my  eyes  as  I  write  it — Rob 
went  on,  saying,  'We  boys  of  Woodville  are  hence- 
forth and  forever  free  and  independent.  Down 
with  superstition !  Vive  liberty !'  And  spreading 
the  Bible  wide  open  between  the  two  Testaments, 
he  poured  on  it  kerosene  oil  and  ignited  it.  And 
all  the  boys  and  a  few  drinking  men  shouted, 
"Not  this  man,  but  Barabbas!' 

My  poor  heart  ached  as  I  beheld  from  my  win- 
dow the  Scriptures  burning.  A  great  blaze  shot 
up  into  the  darkness ;  and  around  it  stood  a  circle 
of  Woodville  boys  screaming,  'The  Bible  is  gone!' 
I  just  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer;  and  throwing 
my  shawl  around  me,  I  started  towards  the  awful 
spot.  I  stood  speechless;  my  heart  was  in  my 
throat.  The  flame  had  now  died  down,  leaving 
the  old  Book  only  a  red  coal.  The  upper  pages 
had  been  reduced  to  a  leaden  crisp,  and  blown 
away  by  the  evening  wind.  But — you  know  how 
letters  remain  after  paper  is  burned — my  eyes 
fell,  as  I  stood  gazing  at  the  slowly  consuming 
volume,  on  a  page  of  the  first  epistle  of  Peter.  My 


40  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

strength  came  again,  my  voice  returned.  'Come 
here,  Rob;  you  haven't  destroyed  the  Bible/  said 
I.  'Read  those  words  just  above  that  spot  of  red 
cinders.'  And  the  boy's  voice  trembled  as  he 
stammered  aloud,  The  Word  of  the  Lord  endureth 
forever.  And  in  the  faint  glow  of  the  dying  em- 
bers, I  could  see  that  Rob  had  turned  pale. 

Since  that  night  my  boy  has  been  serious;  but 
he  is  not  the  comfort  he  was.  He  used  to  be  my 
main  stay,  but  now  he  has  become  hard  and  care- 
less. He  has  strange  notions.  Rob  surely  did 
not  understand  your  deep  sermon.  You  mean 
right,  but  we  plain  people  don't  understand.  Do 
you  think  Jesus  preached  that  way?  Don't  take 
me  to  be  criticising  my  superiors ;  but  is  this  new 
gospel  the  best  thing  for  boys? 

I  wish  you  would  make  it  convenient  to  see 
Rob;  he  understood  you  to  say  music  is  prayer. 
Of  course  he  is  only  a  boy,  and  does  not  under- 
stand; but  he  has  brought  home  a  bran-new  fid- 
dle, and  every  time  he  saws  the  bow  across  it,  he 
says  he  is  praying.  I  do  not  know  how  or  where 
he  got  the  instrument,  for  he  has  been  out  of  a 
job  some  weeks,  and  I  have  had  no  money  to  give 
him.  Please  call  and  talk  with  Rob.  Somehow  I 
can't  help  feeling  that  my  boy  is  gofng  to  get  into 
some  great  trouble.  His  ways  are  so  strange.  I 
am  expecting  any  minute  to  hear  that  Rob  has 


"The  Word  of  the  Lord  Endureth  Forever." 


MUSIC   IS   PRAYER.  43 

Qone  something  awful.     Help  him  if  you  can. 

Yours  in  tears, 

Mrs.  Mary  Shandon. 

Dr.  Arlington  threw  the  letter  into  the  grate, 
frowning  as  he  recalled  the  writer's  solemn  ques- 
tion, "Did  Jesus  preach  that  way?"  The  Doctor 
was  still  sitting  with  eyes  fixed  on  the  ashen  epis- 
tle. A  tap  on  the  door  aroused  him  from  a  revery 
that  was  by  no  means  pleasing.  Tom  Howard,  a 
deacon  in  Grand  Avenue  Church,  entered  saying, 
with  evident  excitement,  "Doctor,  do  you  remem- 
ber a  youth  of  sixteen,  received  into  the  church 
two  years  ago,  named  Robert  Shandon?" 

Dr.  Arlington  bit  his  lip  and  frowned  j  but  said 
nothing. 

"Well,"  continued  Howard,  "Rob  Shandon  ap- 
peared, at  the  opening  of  court  this  morning,  be- 
fore Judge  Castleberry,  charged  with  robbing  the 
money  drawer  of  Jackson's  grocery.  The  boy's 
counsel  pleaded  guilty,  praying  the  mercy  of  the 
court,  and  urging  in  extenuation  of  the  crime, 
that  the  youth  had  become  unbalanced  on  the 
subject  of  religion,  having  embraced  your  views 
of  prayer.  Accordingly,  argued  the  attorney, 
Rob,  to  cultivate  his  spiritual  tendencies,  stole 
money  with  which  to  purchase  a  violin,  for  he  had 
been  taught  that  music  is  prayer.  "Please  your 
honor,"  said  counsel,  "it  is  only  a  religious  freak." 


44 


THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 


"What  did  Judge  Castleberry  say  to  that?"  iiv 
quired  Dr.  Arlington  with  face  all  aglow. 

"He  required  the  young  prisoner  to  stand  up, 
and  said,  'Robert  Shandon,  there  are  no  freaks  in 
religion;  and  as  an  officer  of  the  law,  I  advise  you 
to  join  a  different  school  of  theology.  In  a  long 
experience  in  criminal  courts,  I  have  observed 
that  culture,  art,  and  music,  have  not  kept  men 
from  ruin,  and  that  the  Bible  alone  is  a  sufficient 
guide  in  all  matters  of  moral  conduct.  But,  as 
this  is  your  first  offense,  and  in  view  of  your  mo- 
ther's sufferings  on  your  behalf,  I  shall  make 
your  punishment  the  lighest  the  law  allows." 

Dr.  Arlington  seemed  troubled,  and  deacon 
Howard  retired. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"THE  VOICE  OF  A  GOD,  AND  NOT  OF  A  MAN." 

The  pastor's  sermons  had  continued  to  draw, 
with  the  aid  of  trained  choirs  and  skilled  orches- 
tras and  other  accessories  of  sensuous  worship, 
large  and  enthusiastic  congregations.  They  were 
literary,  crisp,  sparkling,  entertaining.  He  was  by 
far  the  most  popular  minister  the  church  had 
ever  had,  and  his  influence  was  growing  with  each 
recurring  Sabbath  under  the  spell  of  his  fasci- 
nating imagery.  A  large  number  of  persons  had 
been  added  to  the  membership;  institutional 
work  had  flourished,  especially  the  bowling-alley 
and  pool-tables.  The  whist  club  and  the  saloon 
of  soft-drinks  were  on  a  substantial  basis;  the 
funds  necessary  to  erect  a  church  dancing-hall 
had  been  subscribed;  while  the  boys'  minstrel 
show  numbered  its  scores.  It  is  just,  however  to 
mention  the  fact  that  a  certain  class  of  the  flock 
had  absented  themselves  from  service  of  late. 
They  were  mainly  persons  who  held  to  the  old 
standards,  and  made  the  Bible  their  supreme 
spiritual  guide. 

The  approaching  Sabbath  would  mark  the  sixth 


46  THE    BRIDES    RETURN. 

anniversary  of  Dr.  Arlington's  pastorate,  and 
elaborate  preparations  were  making  for  the  joy- 
ous occasion.  Quartets  and  soloists  were  in 
training,  while  guilds,  clubs,  orders,  and  fraterni- 
ties were  vying  with  one  another  in  the  effort  to 
place  on  the  clergyman's  brow  the  brightest  coro- 
net of  Woodville's  praise.  The  pulpit  was  deco- 
rated with  palms  and  flowers,  the  galleries  were 
festooned  with  bunting  and  holly.  A  life-size 
portrait,  painted  at  the  expense  of  the  Woodville 
Comic  Opera  Troupe,  was  suspended  above  the 
reading-desk,  a  magnificent  likeness  of  the  gifted 
clergyman. 

As  a  glorious  Lord's  Day  came  to  its  close,  the 
full  moon  filled  the  streets  with  shadows  and 
burnished  the  city's  steeples  and  towers  with  sil- 
ver. Admiring  throngs  climbed  the  marble  steps 
of  Grand  Avenue  Church,  packing  all  available 
space  in  the  edifice,  except  the  aisles,  which  were 
kept  clear  in  order  to  admit  the  numerous  pro- 
cessions that  were  to  march  past  the  pulpit  in 
recognition  of  the  splendid  services  the  pastor 
had  rendered  the  community. 

As  the  town  clock  was  striking  eight,  Dr.  Ar- 
lington, decorated  with  the  badges  of  the  numer- 
ous orders  to  which  he  belonged,  slowly  walked 
up  the  aisle,  escorted  by  a  bevy  of  girls  who 
sported  in  waves  of  illusion,  and  gracefully  tossed 
their  spangled  heads.    Each  radiant  maiden  bore 


"THE  VOICE  OF  A  GOD,  AND  NOT  OF  A  MAN,"     47 

a  banner  representing  some  society  in  the  Grand 
Avenue  membership,  while  the  great  pipe  organ 
sounded,  con  molto  espressione,  the  Wedding 
March.  The  next  number  was  a  solo  by  Mrs. 
Stuart,  whose  late  divorce  and  remarriage  had 
created  a  weird  sensation  in  the  social  circles  of 
the  city.  The  song  was  superb  and  enchained  the 
audience  in  awful  stillness  until  its  very  close, 
when,  recovering  from  the  potent  spell,  a  thou- 
sand voices  shrieked  wild  encores.  The  bewitch- 
ing songsters  reappeared  and  sang  "Coming 
Through  the  Rye."  Dr.  Arlington  clapped  his 
hands,  while  the  congregation,  under  the  charm 
of  Mrs.  Stuart's  splendid  powers,  gave  way  to 
rapturous  applause  that  echoed  and  re-echoed  in 
the  fretted  vault  above. 

When  the  congregation  became  quiet  again, 
Col.  James,  the  most  influential  brewer  in  the 
church,  or  even  in  the  city,  presented  the  pastor 
to  the  audience  as  the  prophet  of  a  new  theology 
and  the  apostle  of  a  new  age — a  man  that  sym- 
pathized with  men,  the  iconoclast  of  bloody  gos- 
pels, silly  creeds,  and  mad  Gods.  The  long-con- 
tinued laughter  and  applause  showed  how  well 
the  Colonel  knew  the  religious  tenets  of  his 
hearers. 

Dr.  Arlington  said :  "I  am  a  man ;  I  stand  for 
humanity ;  I  am  one  of  the  multitude.  If  the  race 
is  lost,  I  want  to  share  its  lot.  Intsead  of  damna- 


48  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

tion,  I  preach  salvation.  A  Deity  that  would  de- 
stroy his  offspring,  would  be  a  cannibal ;  I  would 
hate  a  God  that  could  make  a  hell !  The  poet  has 
finely  sung: 

'In  my  choice, 
To  reign  is  worth  ambition,  though  in  Hell. 
Better  to  reign  in  Hell  than  serve  in  Heaven.' 

Yes,  the  glory  of  earth  and  sky  is  man,  as  the 
seer  divinely  sang: 

'From  harmony  to  harmony 

Through  all  the  compass  of  the  notes  it  ran, 

The  diapason  closing  full  in  Man.'  " 

Dr.  Arlington  remained  standing  amid  thun- 
ders of  applause  and  shrieks  of  approval,  to  re- 
ceive the  several  orders,  trades ,  fraternities, 
guilds,  clubs,  and  societies,  without  distinction,  as 
they  defiled  past  the  platform  bearing  significant 
devices.  The  Gaming  Club  lead  the  procession, 
preceded  by  a  handsome  youth  in  knickerbockers 
carrying  on  a  silver  platter  an  exquisite  pack  of 
Congress  playing-cards.  Next  came  the  Terpsi- 
chorean  Society  with  a  silk  banner  displaying  a 
superb  picture  of  their  patron  Muse.  The  gentle- 
men, in  full  dress,  paired  off  with  the  ladies,  in 
low-necked  bodices  and  slippers,  and  swung  past 


"THE  VOICE  OF  A  GOD,  AND  NOT  OF  A  MAN."     49 

the  pulpit  to  a  spirited  two-step  rendered  by  the 
Mandolin  Club.  This  performance  brought  down 
the  house,  while  Dr.  Arlington  smiled  and  shuf- 
fled his  feet.  After  this,  Woodville's  fashionable 
society  was  represented  by  the  Late  Hour  Club 
and  the  Daughters  of  the  Spotted  Garter,  bear- 
ing respectively  a  decanter  and  a  punch-bowl.  As 
these  bejeweled  members  of  the  "Four  Hundred" 
trooped  past  the  pulpit,  the  clergyman  exclaimed 
in  an  undertone,  "The  difference  between  the  elite 
and  the  elect  is  only  a  matter  of  spelling!"  Then 
marched  the  Boys'  Brigade,  armed  cap-a-pie,  to 
the  sound  of  fife  and  drum;  and  halting  at  the 
rostrum,  faced  the  audience  in  their  bright  uni- 
forms, and  went  through  the  manual  of  arms. 
As  these  young  heroes  defiled  away,  they  fired 
blank  cartridges,  filling  the  church  with  smoke — 
and  prolonged  applause.  Finally,  after  numerous 
lodges  and  other  organizations  had  performed 
their  numbers  on  the  programme,  the  Free 
Thinkers'  Club  paraded  the  aisles  in  the  wake  of 
a  cart  drawn  by  a  goat.  In  this  cart  there  was  a 
coffin,  displaying  in  gilt  letters  the  following  bit 
of  doggerel : 

In  this  box — y 
Lies  Orthodoxy. 

This  exhibition  created  a  little  diversion,  and  the 


50  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

shouts  of  the  people  indicated  that  the  old-time 
beliefs  were  not  popular  at  Grand  Avenue;  while 
Dr.  Arlington  voiced  the  prevailing  sentiment 
when  he  smiled  and  said: 

"There  lives  more  faith  in  honest  doubt, 
Believe  me,  than  in  half  the  creeds." 

When  a  purse  of  a  thousand  dollars  had  been 
presented  to  the  pastor  by  his  appreciative  flock, 
the  gloria  was  magnificently  rendered  by  the 
choir,  and  the  phonograph  pronounced  the  bene- 
diction. 

As  the  congregation  melted  away,  compliments 
on  every  hand  were  freely  paid  to  the  bold  genius 
that  for  six  years  had  filled  the  leading  pulpit  of 
Woodville.  A  goodly  number  of  bar-tenders  and 
dealers  at  the  bucket-shops  signified  their  inten- 
tion of  uniting  with  the  church.  A  chronic 
tippler  expressed  the  thought  of  many  when  he 
declared  that  he  had  found  a  preacher  who  had  a 
religion  to  suit  everybody;  and  that  if  he  re- 
mained in  the  community  every  sot  and  gambler 
in  town  would  join  Grand  Avenue  Church. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   HUMANISTIC   CHURCH. 


After  this  splendid  success,  Dr.  Arlington  set 
to  work  to  multiply  the  institutional  features  of 
Grand  Avenue  Church.  He  had  long  been  hamp- 
ered by  the  restrictions  of  the  orthodox  faith,  and 
felt  an  insatiate  craving  for  a  broader  field  of 
service.  He  had  naturally  chafed  under  the 
dogma  that  some  men  are  elected  to  everlasting 
felicity,  when,  as  he  claimed,  all  men  are  thus 
elected.  He  maintained,  furthermore,  that  Chris- 
tian leaders  had  insisted  too  strongly  on  a  clearly 
demarked  line  between  right  and  wrong,  whereas 
these  terms  are  but  relative.  One  community 
believes  evil  what  another  believes  good;  there- 
fore, we  should  be  cautious  in  establishing  ethi- 
cal bounds.  The  difference,  he  held,  is  rather  be- 
tween wisdom  and  folly.  The  burden  of  the 
church  is  not  to  save  men  from  hell,  but  from 
ignorance.  The  task  of  the  seer  is  not  to  unfold 
panoramas  of  an  intangible  world  above,  but  to 
stimulate  and  direct  the  artistic  sense  of  the  race 
living  in  a  real  world  below.  The  aesthetic  taste 
is  worth  a  thousand  "prayerful  frames,"  while 


52  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

bodily  ease  and  mental  repose  befit  the  denisons 
of  earth  better  than  the  beatitudes  of  a  ghostly 
experience.  Dr.  Arlington  insisted  that  the 
Church,  like  the  Sabbath,  was  made  for  man,  and 
hence  should  be  intensely  human,  or,  as  he  pre- 
ferred to  say,  humanistic.  The  Church  should  be 
in  such  close  touch  with  the  world  that  men 
would  naturally  gravitate  into  it,  just  as  they  do 
into  a  political  party. 

Desirous  of  reducing  his  theories  to  practice, 
the  learned  divine  gave  careful  study  to  the 
social  and  religious  conditions  of  Woodville.  He 
visited  the  shops,  the  mills,  the  factories ;  he  freely 
conversed  with  rich  roues,  gamblers,  thieves,  and 
the  chain-gang.  He  succeeded  in  worming  from 
all  classes  their  objections  to  the  Church,  and 
noted  their  divergent  views  of  moral  questions 
in  his  gilt-edged  memorandum. 

One  morning,  as  he  sat  in  his  study  pondering 
the  "humanistic  problem,"  under  the  inspiration 
of  a  happy  thought,  he  cried  out,  "Eureka !  I  have 
found  it!  Amen."  And  rising  from  his  easy 
chair,  he  exclaimed  in  genuine  ecstasy,  "The 
solution  of  all  theology  is  a  humanistic  church." 
Clasping  his  hands  behind  his  back,  beads  of  per- 
spiration standing  on  his  brow,  he  strode  rapidly 
to  and  fro  across  the  velvet  carpet,  soliloquizing 
in  broken  sentences  after  the  following  manner: 
"Such  an  institution  would  meet  the  moral  neces- 


THE  HUMANISTIC   CHURCH.  53 

sities  of  every  class  in  the  community.  Astonish- 
ing that  the  Apostles  did  not  see  this  vision !  If 
Christ  had  only  lived  in  this  momentous  age! 
Yes;  such  an  institution  would  grip  men  of  flesh 
and  blood  in  its  ecclesiastical  arms  and  lift  them 
out  of  the  noisome  pit  of  ignorance.  Such  a 
church  would  be  the  home  of  all  mankind — a 
trysting  place  for  the  unhappy  convict,  and  a 
bower  for  deflowered  ladies.  The  rich  and  the 
poor  meet  together;  the  good  and  the  bad  shake 
hands  in  humanistic  bonds.  Universal  brother- 
hood!— everybody's  church!  Instead  of  this 
splendid  consummation,  the  pulpit  declares  its 
message  to  a  coterie  of  women,  a  band  of  chil- 
dren, a  few  men,  and  a  multitude  of  empty  pews. 
And  this  pitiable  pageant  on  the  world's  stage  is 
called  the  kingdom  of  heaven!  This  farce  must 
cease,  and  the  cross  of  Chirst  must  be  adapted 
to  the  crosses  of  men.  Did  not  the  man  of  Naza- 
reth say  that,  if  lifted  up,  he  would  draw  all  men 
to  him?  That  auspicious  day  has  surely  not  yet 
dawned.  Our  preachers  have  held  the  cross  so 
high  that  its  magnetism  has  been  lost  to  the  be- 
grimed sons  of  toil.  Yes,  that's  it!  The  great 
majority  of  men  prefer  certain  forms  of  ease  and 
certain  lines  of  amusement,  and  to  reach  this 
predominating  element  in  the  social  fabric,  the 
Church  must  be  humanistic,  that  is,  in  sympathy 
with  all  possible  conditions  of  humanity.    As  we 


54  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

now  see  it,  Christianity  is  walking  on  stilts,  and 
stepping  over  the  heads  of  the  rank  and  file  of 
the  race.  The  remedy  lies  in  adapting  the  ma- 
chinery of  the  Church  to  the  needs  of  the  age,  and 
in  the  use  of  methods  that  appeal  to  all  conditions 
of  society.  An  antiquated  Gospel  is  the  curse  of 
this  new  century.  Away  with  inflexible  creeds 
and  cast-iron  methods!" 

With  such  radical  theories  exciting  his  brain, 
the  humanistic  reformer  retired  from  his  arduous 
labors  to  his  luxurious  bed,  and  dreamed  of  a 
world  saved  by  the  application  of  mechanical 
methods 

When  Dr.  Arlington  had  elaborated  his  new 
church,  even  to  the  minutest  details,  he  submitted 
the  fascinating  plan  to  the  Woodville  press.  The 
editors  gave  their  most  prominent  columns  to  a 
display,  in  large  and  showy  type,  of  the  leading 
features  of  the  new  religious  program  of  Grand 
Avenue  Church.  The  revised  order  of  worship 
was  announced  to  go  into  effect  on  the  following 
Sunday.  The  papers  were  enthusiastic  in  their 
prediction  of  a  glad  new  era  in  the  religious 
status  of  Woodville.  They  maintained  that  every- 
body is  religious  any  way,  but  it  remained  for 
Dr.  Arlington  to  adjust  the  Church  to  this  funda- 
mental fact  so  long  misunderstood  by  theolo- 
gians. He  was,  they  claimed,  a  greater  con- 
queror than  Alexander,  and  a  greater  discoverer 


THE  HUMANISTIC  CHURCH.  55 

than  Columbus,  for  the  reason  that  he  had 
triumphed  over  all  the  creeds  of  Christendom, 
and  revealed  the  new  world  of  human  life. 

As  one  might  suppose,  the  entire  city  was 
moved  by  a  weird  sensation.  Some  pious  per- 
sons were  shocked,  but  the  great  mass  of  Grand 
Avenue's  fashionable  folk  were  charmed  as  never 
before  by  anything  called  worship,  while  non- 
church-goers  and  infidels  swaggered  along  the 
streets  expressing  their  unfeigned  approbation 
of  the  new  order  of  things  in  the  frantic  shout, 
"Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians!" 

The  anxiously  awaited  Sabbath  morning  dawn- 
ed balmy  and  clear — not  a  cloud  to  cast  a  shadow 
over  the  splendid  installation  of  Dr.  Arlington's 
new  theology.  At  an  early  hour  the  church  was 
crowded,  and  hundreds  were  turned  from  the 
doors  in  dire  disappointment. 

At  eleven  o'clock,  the  popular  pulpit  orator 
appeared  on  the  platform  in  full  dress  and  was 
wildly  greeted  by  a  series  of  Chatauqua  salutes 
long  continued.  After  he  had  recognized  the 
compliment  of  his  audience  by  a  graceful  bow, 
the  choir  struck  up 


"Behold!  the  conquering  hero  comes 


i" 


This  patriotic  air  was  followed  by  the  national 
hymn, 


56  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

"My  country,  'tis  of  thee, 
Sweet  land  of  liberty." 

Then  the  minister,  having  stated  that  the  Bible 
would  be  used  henceforth  only  as  a  book  of  occa- 
sional reference,  announced  that  there  were  many 
bibles,  all  equally  inspired,  and  that  the  reading 
lessons  would  be  taken  from  classic  writings  of 
all  times,  according  to  occasion.  The  preacher 
said  further  that  the  Bible  was  an  antiquated 
book  whose  day  had  passed,  and  inasmuch  as  it 
offended  the  major  part  of  mankind,  it  could 
never  furnish  a  platform  on  which  the  entire 
race  could  stand.  "And  hereafter,"  he  added, 
"Grand  Avenue  Church  will  have  very  little  to 
do  with  the  Bible."  Rapturous  applause  and 
deafening  yells  indorsed  this  radical  assertion. 
When  order  had  been  secured,  the  minister  read 
as  the  morning  lesson  extracts  from  the  Apology 
of  Socrates,  Cicero  on  Friendship,  Ruskin,  Emer- 
son and  Darwin. 

Skilful  critic  that  he  was,  Dr.  Arlington  learn- 
edly compared  the  philosophical  teachings  of 
these  world-masters,  as  he  termed  them,  carefully 
weighing  their  deductions  and  balancing  their 
differences.  He  closed  his  profound  appreciation 
of  these  "apostles  of  the  race"  by  contrasting  two 
of  them :  "Socrates,  forever  prating  about  his  di- 
vinity that  accompanied  him,  was  superstitious; 


THE  HUMANISTIC  CHURCH.  57 

Darwin,  discarding  music,  poetry,  and  art,  was 
lacking  in  humanism." 

As  the  pastor  took  his  seat,  one  of  the  trustees 
gave  the  following  notices : 

At  the  evening  service,  a  sacred  concert  will 
be  given  under  the  auspices  of  the  American 
Hilarity  Company,  an  artistic  traveling  opera. 

Next  Sabbath  evening,  a  baby  elephant  which 
has  been  secured  at  considerable  expense  from 
the  Philadelphia  Zoological  Garden,  will  be  ex- 
hibited, acompanied  by  a  racy  discourse  on  the 
larger  animals. 

On  last  Sabbath  evening  of  the  month,  there 
will  be  union  services  of  all  the  young  people's 
organizations  of  the  church,  the  entertainment  to- 
be  given  by  the  Grand  Avenue  Amateur  Theatri- 
cal Club  which  will  reproduce  some  of  the  most 
impressive  scenes  in  Goethe's  Faust. 

The  Laughing  Club  will  meet  at  the  close  of  the 
midweek  service.    A  full  attendance  is  requested. 

The  audience  will  note  that  the  pastor's  new 
program  has  added  tone  and  life  to  all  of  the  ser- 
vices of  the  church,  and  each  number  promises 
special  attractions,  and  will  be  rich  in  humanics. 

When  the  announcements  were  over,  the  great 
organ  played  as  an  interlude  one  of  Chopin's 
stirring  waltzes,  which  moved  many  hearts  and 
not  a  few  "fantastic  toes."  Under  the  inpsiration 
of  the  music,  six  charming  girls,  whose  office  it 
became  in  the  new  regime  to  pass  the  collection 
baskets,  addressed  themselves  to  their  new  task 


58  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

as  if  to  the  manor  born.  These  handsome  lassies, 
with  cheeks  radiant  with  paint  and  feet  keeping 
time  to  the  inspiring  pipes,  exerted  a  magical  in- 
fluence on  the  pocket-books  of  the  men.  When  a 
gentleman  dropped  into  the  basket  a  silver  piece 
or  a  bill,  the  beautiful  ushers  smiled;  when  he 
cast  in  a  nickel  they  pouted ;  and  when  he  offered 
a  penny,  they  shook  their  heribboned  heads  and 
made  their  ostrich  plumes  quiver  with  indigna- 
tion. Naturally,  this  was  the  largest  current  col- 
lection ever  taken  in  the  history  of  the  church, 
and  the  innovation  from  the  start  promised  to 
be  a  signal  success. 

The  next  number  on  the  program  was 

"John  Anderson  My  Jo," 

sung  bewitchingly  by  two  handsome  lassies  in 
low-necked  costume. 

This  favorite  Scotch  ditty  called  forth  persis- 
tent encores,  deafening  yells,  and  cat-calls  in  the 
gallery,  answered  by  a  captivating  rendition  of 

"Coming  Through  the  Rye." 

At  this  point  in  the  worship,  the  preacher  took 
occasion  to  remark  on  the  superiority  of  the  new 
song  literature  over  the  vapid  hymns  of  an 
antiquated  Christianity.    He  assured  the  congre- 


THE  HUMANISTIC  CHURCH.  59 

gation  that  in  the  future  all  the  music,  whether 
instrumental  or  vocal,  would  thrill  with  human 
interest;  and  the  works  of  the  masters  of  pathos, 
whether  sung  by  a  minstrel  troupe  or  rendered 
before  kings  in  a  grand  opera,  would  be  selected 
according  to  their  humanistic  qualities. 

"Now,"  continued  Dr.  Arlington,  "we  are 
going  to  have  prayer.  This  number  requires 
neither  words  nor  special  attitude,  but  reposeful 
reverie.  It  is  a  mental  exercise,  reaching  its 
climax  under  the  influence  of  music.  Think  about 
the  things  that  please  you.  Picture  the  sort  of 
house  you  would  like  to  live  in.  Imagine  your- 
selves happy.  If  you  are  weak,  resolve  to  be 
strong.  If  you  are  sick,  determine  to  get  well. 
If  you  have  committed  indiscretions,  vulgarly 
called  sins,  forget  them.  These  pleasing  reflec- 
tions and  holy  frames,  accompanied  by  divine 
harmonies,  are  prayer. 

"The  organ  will  now  lead  us  in  our  devotions." 

For  ten  minutes  waves  of  music  rolled  and 
rocked,  and  sighed  and  sobbed,  and  beat  and 
burst,  while  the  audience  prayed.  In  the  midst 
of  the  devotions,  an  enterprising  artist  took  a 
flash-light  picture  of  the  happy  worshipers, 
which  he  afterwards  developed  and  sold  on  post 
cards  to  members  of  the  flock  as  souvenirs  of 
this  eventful  Sabbath  morning. 

After  the  prayer  service,  Dr.  Arlington,  in  a 


60  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

very  happy  way,  charmed  his  great  congregation 
by  outlining  what  he  called  "the  social  hour," 
predicting  that  it  would  be  one  of  the  most  at- 
tractive numbers  on  the  new  program  of  wor- 
ship. "Man  is  a  convivial  being/'  observed  the 
preacher,  "and  must  have  provision  made  for 
his  customs  and  habits.  Men  are  largely  flesh, 
and  they  must  have  those  diversions  and  indi- 
gencies that  appeal  to  the  flesh.  If  they  can't 
get  them  at  church,  they  will  find  them  in  the  low 
dives  of  the  slums.  The  church  was  made  for 
humanity;  therefore  it  must  gratify  the  cravings 
of  human  nature." 

The  Doctor  stated  that  a  telegraph  office  had 
been  installed  in  the  basement  of  the  building  in 
order  that  the  latest  happenings  in  the  way  of 
our  social  and  political  life  might  be  reported  to 
the  congregation  during  the  social  hour.  "For 
instance,"  said  he,  "the  most  atrocious  murders, 
remarkable  lynchings,  important  divorce  cases, 
the  result  of  famous  base-ball  games,  the  doings 
of  strikers,  any  sudden  changes  in  the  stock 
markets,  and  reports  of  storms,  floods,  and  fires." 

The  pastor  announced  further  that  arrange- 
ment had  been  effected  with  a  celebrated  artist 
to  reproduce  on  a  specially  prepared  blackboard 
the  most  recent  political  cartoons.  And  that  next 
Sabbath  a  jester  would  be  added  to  the  attrac- 
tions of  the  social  hour,  who  would  select  and 


THE  HUMANISTIC   CHURCH.  61 

recite  the  most  side-splitting  jokes  and  the  most 
sparkling  humorous  sayings  of  the  day. 

"Now,  gentlemen,"  said  the  minister,  "let  us 
begin  this  social  service  with  a  good  smoke.  The 
young  ladies  will  serve  cream  and  cake.  After 
that  they  will  wait  on  you  with  the  best  brands 
of  cigars,  cigarettes  and  also  pipes  and  Duke's 
Mixture.  Take  your  choice.  The  ladies  will  be 
served  with  tea  by  the  young  gentlemen.  Let 
everybody  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry." 

While  the  convivialities  were  in  progress,  and 
rich  spiral  columns  of  smoke  were  filling  the 
church,  a  telegram  was  brought  from  the  office 
below,  and  read  amid  profound  silence  and 
evident  expectation.  It  was  a  report  of  a  prize 
fight  in  San  Francisco,  just  off.    Thus  it  read: 

Tim  Tenny  was  knocked  out  last  night  in  an 
atempt  to  wrest  the  championship  from  Chiefy 
Neil,  and  died  this  morning.  Official  examination 
determined  that  death  resulted  from  cerebral 
hemorrhage,  caused,  it  is  supposed,  by  a  blow. 
Various  drugs,  including  strychnine,  were  ad- 
ministered to  Tenny  in  an  effort  to  revive  him 
after  the  fie-ht,  but  the  beating  was  so  brutal  that 
he  never  rallied. 

Tenny  went  down  before  Neil's  hard  Wt-hand 
blows  in  the  fourteenth  round,  when  Neil  went 
at  him  like  a  madman,  and  hammered  him  in  the 
face  while  blood  noured  from  his  mouth  and  nose. 
The  helpless  victim  dropped  against  the  ropes. 


62  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

His  head  sank  on  his  chest  and  his  arms  fell 
limp  to  his  sides.  In  eight  hours  the  end  came. 
The  spectators  were  estimated  at  12,000. 

The  congregation  received  the  dispatch  with 
marked  satisfaction,  and  commented  rapturously 
on  the  practical  importance  of  this  part  of  the 
service.  A  number  of  the  gentlemen  were 
buoyant  because  they  had  won  the  amounts  they 
booked  on  the  fight,  while  others  were  dejected  be- 
cause they  had  lost.  As  soon  as  order  could  be 
secured,  Dr.  Arlington  announced  as  his  subject 

"THE  TWENTIETH   CENTURY   CHURCH." 

He  said  in  part: 

"The  age  demands  a  church  which  the  mass  of 
mankind  approves.  Whatever  is  objectionable  to 
the  masses  must  be  eliminated.  The  twentieth 
century  church  repudiates  hell  and  the  devil  and 
miracles  as  superstitions  of  the  dark  ages. 
Humanistic  views  of  repentance  and  regenera- 
tion must  take  the  place  of  the  somber  and  im- 
possible experiences  required  by  the  vanishing 
theology  of  our  fathers.  The  church  must  be  so- 
cial. As  to  its  joys  and  methods,  it  must  sur- 
pass the  world  at  its  own  game.  It  must  have 
better  music  than  the  opera,  better  amusements 
than  the  theatre,  and  better  social  life  than  the 
clubs.    It  must  exalt  the  brotherhood  of  man  and 


THE  HUMANISTIC  CHURCH.  63 

the  fatherhood  of  God,  patriotism,  liberty  of  con- 
science, and  the  supremacy  of  art  and  culture. 

"Such  a  church  will  attract  men,  for  all  con- 
ditions of  society  will  recognize  the  inestimable 
advantages  it  offers.  Among  the  numerous  bene- 
fits of  this  practical  Christianity,  I  name  a  few 
that  all  my  hearers  will  recognize.  The  privilege 
of  artistic  burial  rights.  You  will  be  declared 
a  member  of  this  great  church,  beautiful  hymns 
will  be  sung  over  you,  and  honor  and  respecta- 
bility will  be  added  to  your  memory.  But  while 
you  live  you  will  move  as  a  member  of  fashionable 
society  because  of  connection  with  this  body.  You 
will  share  the  pleasures  accruing  from  church 
suppers,  minstrels,  card-parties,  and  the  dances. 
You  will  also  have  part  in  the  honors  that  are 
connected  with  the  church  foot-ball  and  base-ball 
teams,  besides  the  skating-rink,  pool-tables,  ten- 
pins, and  many  other  projected  attractions." 

After  the  delivery  of  this  phenomenal  sermon, 
which  gave  the  keynote  of  his  ministry  for  the 
future,  Dr.  Arlington  extended  an  invitation  to 
persons  who  wished  to  unite  with  Grand  Avenue 
Church  to  come  forward.  About  two  hundred 
presented  themselves  for  membership.  He  stated 
that  he  did  not  "open  the  doors  of  the  church," 
for  the  reason  that  the  doors  were  never  shut. 
All  persons  were  eligible  who  thought  the  church 
relation  might  do  them  good  or  bring  them  any 


64  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

comfort.  No  religious  belief  was  necessary,  and 
no  definite  creed  was  required. 

As  the  pastor  received  the  candidates  into 
church  fellowship,  he  exultantly  called  attention 
to  the  fact  that  they  represented  widely  divergent 
views,  and  came  from  very  different  social 
environments.  Some  of  these  were  moralists, 
some  Christian  Scientists,  two  Mormons,  one 
Jew,  several  ballet  dancers,  and  a  dozen  or  more 
infidels.  "The  old  methods,"  he  exclaimed, 
"could  never  have  reached  these  honest  classes 
of  our  citizenship,  and  but  for  a  humanistic 
gospel,  they  would  never  have  been  gathered  into 
the  fold." 

Just  as  Dr.  Arlington  raised  his  hands  to  dis- 
miss the  congregation,  a  stylish  young  woman, 
clasping  an  infant  in  her  arms,  rose  from  her  seat 
in  the  first  pew,  and  holding  up  the  child,  she 
shrieked  in  an  outburst  of  relief,  while  the  audi- 
ence sat  breathless,  "Now,  Dr.  Arlington,  since 
the  Bible  has  been  abolished,  you  can  afford  to 
acknowledge  your  own !" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"I   NOMINATE  JESUS  CHRIST." 

Recent  occurrences  at  Grand  Avenue  Church 
had  caused  a  decided  reaction  on  the  part  of  some 
who  had  been  the  friends  and  admirers  of  Dr. 
Arlington,  and  awakened  united  opposition  on  the 
part  of  the  spiritual  element  of  the  membership. 
Many  questions  arose.  Was  the  pastor  a  shep- 
herd or  a  hireling?  Was  he  a  representative  of 
the  Head  of  the  Church?  Did  Jesus  teach  such 
views,  or  would  he  approve  such  methods?  Sup- 
pose all  the  world  accepted  Dr.  Arlington's  theo- 
ries, would  the  world  be  evangelized?  Would 
such  Christianity  be  better  than  paganism?  If 
such  religion  prevailed,  would  not  society  be  hope- 
lessly lost?  If  the  pastor's  theology  is  not  the 
gate    of  hell,  is  it  not  the  gate  to  hell? 

While  Dr.  Arlington  was  aware  that  he  still 
had  a  large  and  influential  coterie,  he  also  real- 
ized that  his  prestige  was  broken.  His  religious 
vagaries  and  cultured  unbeliefs  must  only  create 
wider  breaches,  for  many  were  thinking.  Hence, 
while  at  the  floodtide  of  hi3  popularity,  he  deem- 
ed it  wise  to  offer  his  resignation.  This  he  did 
the  next  Sunday  morning. 


66 


THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 


Judge  Castleberry  arose,  and  in  a  business-like 
way  moved  the  acceptance  of  the  resignation. 
The  membership  was  so  utterly  astounded,  that 
ominous  silence  brooded  on  every  lip  for  several 
minutes.  At  length,  however,  the  call  for  remarks 
brought  to  his  feet  Mason  Saunders,  an  admirer 
of  Dr.  Arlington,  who  said,  "I  object  to  the  mo- 
tion. I  know  there  have  been  some  vague  rumors 
afloat  affecting  the  character  of  our  beloved  pas- 
tor, but  they  come  from  his  enemies.  Then,  there 
are  old  fogies  in  the  church  who  discount  Dr.  Ar- 
lington because  he  does  not  swallow  the  story  of 
Jonah  and  the  whale,  and  because  he  rejects  the 
miracles,  and  does  not  accept  the  vicarious  atone- 
ment, and  the  common  theories  of  inspiration, 
and  a  dozen  other  fads  that  have  been  exploded 
a  thousand  times.  No;  I  hope  never  to  see  the 
day  when  Grand  Avenue  Church  will  be  run  by 
fossils."  This  speech  was  received  with  prolonged 
applause;  and  a  hubbub  of  approving  voices 
showed  a  large  following  of  the  minister. 

Next  spoke  Col.  James,  president  of  the  Wood- 
ville  Brewing  Association :  "I  do  not  understand 
the  cause  that  prompts  this  resignation,  and  I 
think  we  should  unanimously  petition  our  beloved 
pastor  to  withdraw  it.  I  should  never  have  been 
a  Christian  but  for  his  strong  sermons  and  lib- 
eral views.  And  I  assert  now,  candidly,  that  I 
would  never  belong  to  any  church  that  had  strait- 


"I    NOMINATE    JESUS    CHRIST."  67 

laced  notions  and  blue-laws ;  nor  would  I  sit  under 
the  ministry  of  any  man  who  is  always  talking 
about  hell  and  Jesus  Christ." 

Judge  Castleberry  followed,  saying,  "We  would 
have  a  far  better  church  if  we  had  more  preach- 
ing along  the  line  Col.  James  has  condemned. 
Our  church  has  been  going  down  for  some  years. 
The  congregation  has  increased,  but  the  spiritual 
power  has  waned.  Instead  of  a  sanctuary,  we 
have  a  show;  instead  of  Christ,  we  have  culture. 
The  membership,  in  the  room  of  being 
closely  knit  together,  is  loosely  joined  by  a  thin 
bandage  of  sentiment.  The  teaching  we  have 
had  of  late  has  lowered  the  tone  of  Christianity, 
as  the  remarks  by  the  two  gentlemen  who  pre- 
ceded me  will  attest;  and,  instead  of  producing 
stalwart  manhood,  it  has  generated  a  brood  of 
mountebanks.  Give  us  a  pure  Gospel  or  a  vacant 
pulpit!" 

Many  hissed;  and  Mrs.  Stuart,  the  banker's 
wife,  revealed  the  hearts  of  a  multitude  when  she 
said,  in  a  clear  voice,  "I  stand  by  the  pastor!" 

Yet,  Mrs.  Eli  Robins,  in  widow's  weeds,  be- 
spoke the  opinion  of  others  when  she  declared,  "I 
cannot  stand  by  the  pastor;  for  you  all  know  my 
great  sorrow  in  the  awful  death  of  my  husband, 
who  had  imbibed  the  peculiar  views  of  Dr.  Arling- 
ton, and  who  was  never  afterwards  to  me  what 
he  was  before."    And  she  covered  her  face  with 


68  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

her  handkerchief — but  her  vow  had  been  fulfilled. 
All  hearts  were  touched,  that  were  capable  of 
emotion,  when  Mrs.  Shandon,  with  sad  face  and 
tremulous  voice,  made  this  brief  statement:  "I 
share  the  feelings  of  Mrs.  Robins;  for  under  the 
influence  of  recent  theology,  I  have  lost  my  poor 
boy — "  here  the  mother  hesitated  and  sobbed, 
then,  wiping  her  eyes,  resumed,  "and  Rob  is  at 
this  holy  hour  in  state's-prison  for  crime  due  to 
the  preaching  of  a  Christless  gospel ;  in  conse- 
quence, the  light  has  gone  out  of  my  life,  and  my 
poor  heart  is  dead."  She  fell  back  into  her  seat, 
as  a  hundred  handkerchiefs  performed  their  sad 
offices  for  moistened  eyes. 

From  all  parts  of  the  auditorium  came  the  cry, 
"Question!  question!"  answered  by  opposing 
shouts  of  "No!  no!  foul  play!  hurrah  for  Arling- 
ton! hurrah  for  Arlington!"  The  confusion  was 
further  increased  by  the  use  of  abusive  epithets 
culminating  in  a  fisticuff  between  two  prominent 
brethren.  As  soon  as  order  could  be  sufficiently 
restored,  the  vote  was  taken,  and  the  resignation 
was  accepted  by  a  small  majority. 

Half  a  year  had  passed,  and  Grand  Avenue 
Church  remained  pastorless.  In  the  mean  time, 
an  irreparable  breach  in  the  brotherhood  had 
been  caused  by  Dr.  Arlington's  resignation; 
though  many  of  the  differences  were  somewhat 
healed  temporarily  in  the  common  desire  to  secure 


"I    NOMINATE    JESUS    CHRIST."  69 

a  worthy  successor,  as  each  faction  counted 
worthiness.  A  pulpit  committee  had  been  duly 
appointed,  consisting  of  Col.  James,  Mason  Saun- 
ders, and  Hon.  Charles  Kent.  These  gentlemen 
represented  the  three  elements  most  conspicuous 
and  influential  in  the  membership.  How  three 
men  so  thoroughly  diverse  in  life,  capacity,  and 
spiritual  attainments,  should  ever  agree,  was  a 
matter  of  conjecture  with  sober  heads.  Col. 
James  was  a  man  of  strong  character,  violent 
prejudices,  a  successful  liquor-dealer,  carrying 
considerable  weight  in  town  politics,  having 
withal  a  large  following  in  the  church.  He  wanted 
an  orator  of  inane  utterances,  shoreless  liberality, 
vapid  theology,  a  retailer  of  current  events.  He 
was  looking  for  a  minister  who  would  regulate 
the  ethics  of  the  pulpit  by  the  sentiment  of  the 
pew  for  a  consideration  of  comfortable  finances. 
His  ideal  preacher  would  never  thunder  against 
vice,  never  expose  the  evils  of  the  community, 
and  above  all,  never  arraign  before  the  bar  of 
public  opinion  the  liquor  business. 

Mason  Saunders,  the  young  lawyer,  was  of  a 
different  type;  indeed,  he  was  a  nondescript,  a 
moral  dreamer,  without  convictions.  A  religious 
concert,  fair,  or  show,  was  his  ideal  of  Christly 
life;  while  his  conception  of  Christian  work  in- 
volved no  higher  activities  than  the  getting  up  of 
a  picnic  or  a  church-supper  followed  by  games  of 


70  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

progressive  euchre.  He  was  fond,  too,  of  gilt- 
edge  sermons,  perfumed  rhetoric,  an  emasculated 
gospel.  He  was,  besides,  an  ardent  admirer  of 
Dr.  Arlington,  a  disciple  of  Christian  Science, 
and  an  ecclesiastical  doll.  Saunders,  of  course, 
was  searching  the  pulpits  of  the  country  for  a 
ministerial  invertibrate. 

Hon.  Charles  Kent,  however,  was  a  man  of 
another  fibre.  He  possessed  sound  judgment,  ex- 
tensive learning,  and  a  Christ-like  spirit.  He  was 
resolved  on  securing  a  pastor  of  dignified  bear- 
ing, of  orthodox  faith,  and  of  fearless  spirit — a 
task  by  no  means  easy  in  view  of  the  worldly 
trend  of  the  Grand  Avenue  flock;  though,  for- 
tunately, there  was  a  remnant  that  had  not  bowed 
the  knee  to  Baal,  and  that  sympathized  with 
the  Senator's  loftier  aims. 

Months  went  by,  and  with  them,  many  candi- 
dates. Some  were  too  old,  some  too  young,  some 
too  weak  in  imaginative  power,  some  too  homely, 
some  preached  too  long,  some  lacked  sociability, 
others  were  too  familiar,  and  all  were  too  anxious 
to  come.  Several  said  they  could  fill  the  church 
at  every  service;  not  a  few  urged  their  claim  on 
the  ground  that  they  were  experts  in  church  en- 
tertainments;  while  others  said  they  were  of  an 
evangelistic  turn,  and  could  get  people  into  the 
fold  that  nobody  else  could  reach.  No  two  of  the 
committee   ever   approved   the   same   candidate; 


"I    NOMINATE    JESUS    CHRIST."  71 

hence,  no  recommendation  had  been  made.  Fi- 
nally, however,  they  did  agree  not  to  name  any 
man  that  had  yet  been  heard,  but  to  invite,  each 
member  of  the  committee,  his  choice,  to  preach  on 
successive  Sabbaths  a  trial  sermon. 

Col.  James'  candidate  came  first.  A  middle- 
aged  man  of  fine  presence,  slightly  corpulent,  evi- 
dently fond  of  the  good  things  of  the  world.  He 
had  a  resonant  voice,  spoke  easily,  was  satisfied 
with  himself  and  all  mankind,  was  looking  for  a 
fat  salary.  He  was  careful  to  offend  none  of  his 
hearers;  and,  avoiding  all  allusion  to  sin,  con- 
fined himself  to  generalities;  holding  that  God  is 
the  All-Father,  supernal  goodness,  universal  light, 
supreme  potency,  and  abysmal  love.  In  quoting 
a  passage  of  Scripture  containing  hell,  he  omitted 
that  word;  and  concluded  his  discourse  with 
graceful  couplets  from  the  poets.  Col.  James 
was  pleased,  and  his  friends  wanted  at  once  to 
cast  their  votes  for  the  candidate  they  had  just 
heard. 

On  the  next  Sabbath,  Mason  Saunders  put  up  a 
clergyman  of  another  mould.  He  posed  as  philos- 
opher, literary  critic,  a  propounder  of  paradoxes, 
and  a  gesticulating  machine.  He  had  just  turned 
his  twenty-fifth  year,  wore  eye-glasses,  gold-rim- 
med, attached  to  a  golden  chain,  had  a  slight  lisp 
and  a  crushed  mustache.  Furthermore,  he  spoke 
fluently,   delivered  gracefully,   dressed   elegantly, 


72 


THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 


and  had  personal  magnetism  of  a  certain  quality. 
He  rejected  all  the  miracles,  considered  the  fiery 
furnace  a  pious  fraud,  the  garden  of  Eden  a 
myth,  the  supernatural  birth  of  Christ  a  pretty 
Hebrew  story,  while  regeneration  is  an  oriental 
figure  of  speech.  He  showed  how  many  things 
found  in  the  Bible  could  not  be  harmonized  with 
modern  research  and  discovery.  He  accepted  the 
Scriptures  as  a  national  literature,  instructive 
and  beautiful,  as  also  were  the  literatures  of 
Buddhism  and  Confucianism.  He  asserted  with 
manifest  pride  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  had  never 
been  surpassed  by  any  teacher  of  any  age  or 
clime.  The  discourse  bristled  with  quotations 
from  "The  Light  of  Asia"  and  the  sacred  books 
of  India.  He  too  had  a  host  of  admirers,  wild  in 
his  praises,  and  prepared  to  call  at  once.  Even 
Col.  James  and  his  party  saw  that  they  could  not 
do  better  than  to  unite  on  this  rising  pulpit  star. 

The  last  candidate  to  be  considered  was  the 
choice  of  the  Hon.  Charles  Kent.  The  humble 
Senator  knew  full  well  that  numerous  and  serious 
difficulties  surrounded  his  preference,  yet  he  also 
understood  the  high  character  and  moral  strength 
of  his  supporters. 

The  congregation  was  on  tiptoe  to  hear,  as 
they  supposed,  a  trial  minister,  on  whose  ortho- 
doxy they  would  sit  in  summary  judgment,  when 
Mr.  Kent  stepped  to  the  front  and  said : 


"I    NOMINATE    JESUS    CHRIST.  73 

"Grand  Avenue  Church  is,  for  the  most  part,  a 
magnificent  museum  of  the  living  dead,  embalm- 
ed in  ribbons,  silks,  feathers,  and  broadcloth, 
and  ornamented  with  jewels  of  gold,  pearl  and 
diamond,  whose  radiance  is,  like  the  phosphores- 
cence of  the  forest,  the  glitter  of  decay.  The  sanc- 
tuary has  become  an  elegant  club-house,  scented 
with  wine,  soiled  by  sin,  given  up  to  ease,  luxury, 
and  pride.  It  speaks  the  world's  language,  wears 
the  world's  uniform,  lives  the  world's  life,  and 
has  only  the  world's  power.  Our  church  has  re- 
fused to  be  evangelized,  and  from  its  carnal 
courts  the  Divine  Spirit  has  fled.  Grand  Avenue 
lacks  vitality,  purpose,  inspiration;  hence  we  are 
groping  blindly  in  unbelief  and  spiritual  dark- 
ness. Our  spectacular  methods,  sensational  min- 
istry, worldly  life,  and  sordid  aims,  have  debased 
us  in  the  eyes  of  men,  and  have  robbed  us  of  our 
influence  for  good.  A  Christian  church  must  be 
more  than  a  lodge,  a  Christian  minister  above  a 
clown. 

"You  have  heard  the  candidates  proposed  by  the 
other  members  of  the  committee,  and  you  have 
formed  your  judgment  concerning  their  fitness 
to  minister  to  you  in  holy  things.  Having  prayed 
over  the  matter  most  earnestly,  I  have  been,  as  I 
think,  led  to  name  a  pastor  who,  wherever  tried, 
has  proved  to  be  a  good  shepherd,  feeding  well 
his  flock  and  caring  tenderly  for  the  lambs.     He 


74 


THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 


is  simple  in  his  preaching,  always  Scriptural, 
never  frivolous,  never  profane  or  foolish.  He  loves 
God,  he  loves  men ;  he  never  makes  any  mistakes ; 
and  his  work  is  always  successful. 

"  I  Nominate  Jesus  Christ  As  The  Pastor 
of  Grand  Avenue  Church." 


CHAPTER  VII. 
HIS  OWN  RECEIVED  HIM  NOT. 

When  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  was  mentioned 
as  the  Good  Shepherd  of  the  flock,  a  weird  spell 
came  over  the  vast  congregation.  Such  a  concep- 
tion was  to  many  so  bold,  so  novel,  so  startling. 
A  large  part  of  the  audience  had  never  associated 
our  Lord  with  the  church,  seeming  to  think  that 
the  membership  was  entirely  independent,  merely 
getting  prestige  from  the  use  of  Messiah's  splen- 
did name.  Christ  was  patron,  that  was  all.  He 
was  not  supposed  to  control  the  energies  of  Chris- 
tians, nor  impose  law,  nor  exact  obedience, 
nor  require  the  supreme  homage  of  loving  hearts. 
Christ  is  the  head  of  the  church ;  has  he  given  up 
his  office?  He  is  the  Good  Shepherd;  has  he  re- 
signed? He  is  the  real  pastor  of  every  true 
church ;  has  he  abandoned  his  flock  to  the  wolves  ? 
The  Divine  Pastor  employs  men  to  preach  his 
word,  comfort  his  saints,  and  lead  his  flock;  but 
he  remains  both  Lord  and  Master.  He  enjoined 
on  Peter,  as  sub-pastor  or  undershepherd,  to  feed 
his  sheep,  but  the  sheep  were  not  Peter's. 

A  motion  was  made  to  go  into  the  election  of  a 


76 


THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 


pastor,  and  Christ  is  the  nominee !  O  Grand  Ave- 
nue, thine  hour  is  come.  Wilt  thou  have  this  man 
to  rule  over  thee?  Wilt  thou  sink  in  sin  or  rise  to 
holiness?  Wilt  thou  die  or  wilt  thou  live?  Dost 
thou  follow  a  god  of  darkness  or  the  God  of  light  ? 
Speak  out  as  a  trumpet  that  gives  no  uncertain 
sound,  for,  in  thy  vote  lies  thy  destiny. 

Remarks  having  been  called  for,  Col.  James 
was  the  first  to  respond. 

"This  church,"  said  he,  "can  never  afford  to 
become  a  praying  and  singing  nursery  again. 
Superstition,  old-fogyism,  blue-laws,  strait-jack- 
ets, and  the  inquisition  have  long  since  been  rele- 
gated to  paganism.  We  are  living  in  a  new  age, 
with  new  ideas,  with  larger  vision.  My  objection 
to  the  Candidate  before  us  is,  that  he  is  antiqua- 
ted, contracted,  narrow,  and  not  abreast  of  the 
age ;  he  is  a  religious  partisan ;  and  he  makes  de- 
mands of  a  free  and  independent  church  like  an 
autocrat,  a  despot,  or  a  king.  And,  moreover,  the 
Candidate  would  take  us  back  two  thousand 
years  to  'the  dim,  religious  light'  of  ecclesiastical 
history,  and  restore  the  Christianity  of  the  New 
Testament.  Just  as  well  stand  in  the  United 
States  Senate  and  ask  that  enlightened  body  to  go 
back  in  its  legislation  to  the  codes  of  Solon  and 
Draco  or  the  traditions  of  the  Sanhedrin.  The 
faith  of  modern  times  as  far  surpasses  the  Chris- 
tianity of  Christ  as  an  ocean  steamship  surpasses 


HIS  OWN  RECEIVED  HIM  NOT.  77 

an  Indian  canoe.  I  give  notice  that  I  shall  vote 
against  the  Candidate." 

As  the  Colonel  took  his  seat,  Mason  Saunders 
rose  and  said : 

"I  am  with  Col.  James.  This  two-thousand- 
year-old  religion  is  out  of  date.  We  live  in  the 
mad  rush  and  crash  of  the  twentieth  century,  and 
must  have  an  up-to-date  religion  to  suit  the  times. 
Above  all,  how  can  this  church  endorse  views  it 
never  entertained?  In  whose  memory  has  such  a 
position  ever  been  supported?  Who,  but  a  few 
fossils,  believe  it  possible?  We  have  outgrown 
such  intolerance.  Are  we  a  set  of  slaves  to  have 
the  whip  cracked  over  us  as  in  the  dark  days  of 
superstition  and  in  the  savage  period  of  the  Pil- 
grim Fathers?  We,"  concluded  Saunders,  tossing 
his  handsome  head,  "have  sailed  away  from  Apos- 
tolic shallows,  and  have  committed  the  ship  of 
Zion  to  broader  seas.  In  this  progressive  age, 
no  one  cares  to  have  an  apostle  shot  at  him  every 
time  he  goes  to  an  evening  german,  or  takes  a 
social  glass,  or  fails  to  say  his  prayers.  Such 
ideas  may  suit  Lilliputians,  but  they  ill  befit  the 
brains  of  men." 

Saunders  himself  regarded  this  effort  as  quite 
a  success;  while  Col.  James,  laughing,  warmly 
congratulated  him. 

The  spirit  of  antichrist  further  showed  itself 
in  the  remarks  of  Professor  Albert  Lyman,  who 


78 


THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 


held  the  chair  of  divinity  in  Woodville  College. 

"Ladies  and  Gentlemen,"  said  the  learned  Doc- 
tor, "I  had  hoped  that  this  silly  twaddle  about  a 
primitive  gospel  had  been  hushed  by  the  diviner 
voices  of  this  new  age,  and  that  the  pious  dreams 
otf  ancient  times  had  been  dissolved  by  the  rising 
sun  of  scientific  day.  Apostolic  fads  and  super- 
stitions have  fled  at  the  approach  of  the  X-ray, 
higher  criticism,  and  impartial  investigation.  The 
times  have  changed,  and  we  have  changed  with 
them.  All  things  Jewish  have  passed  away; — 
Jewish  Bible,  Jewish  customs,  and  even  the  Jew- 
ish Messiah.  This  church  is  American,  not 
Semitic;  and  I  aver  with  equal  faith  and  patriot- 
ism, that  our  banner  is  not  the  Cross,  but  Old 
Glory."  Here  the  Professor  was  interrupted  by 
rapturous  applause.  "The  teaching  of  Jesus,"  re- 
sumed the  Doctor,  "was  necessarily  narrow;  for 
he  belonged  to  a  narrow  age,  and  a  still  narrower 
race.  He  meant  well,  but  his  environment  was 
against  him.  It  is  not  surprising,  then,  that  the 
modern  church  has  outgrown  the  dogmas  of  the 
Nazarene.  Not  more  than  one  in  a  hundred 
thinks  like  the  Son  of  Mary,  and  that  one  does  not 
follow  him. 

"Again:  Jesus  would  divide  the  congregation 
hopelessly.  He  would  reinstate  Hebrew  supersti- 
tions, which  all  enlightened  minds  have  relegated 
to  an  unhappy  past,  and  impose  customs  and  bur- 


HIS  OWN  RECEIVED  HIM  NOT.  79 

dens  that  would  destroy  society  as  now  consti- 
tuted. Business  itself  would  be  impossible  under 
the  commercial  methods  of  Mt.  Zion;  for  trains 
and  trolleys  and  steamships  would  stop  their 
wheels  when  the  clock  struck  Sunday.  Science 
would  be  retarded  twenty  centuries,  while  a  thou- 
sand pleasures  would  be  placed  under  the  ban  of 
an  effete  gospel.  If  a  son  should  ask  a  cigar  of  a 
father,  he  would  give  him  a  catechism;  or  if  he 
should  ask  a  Sunday  paper,  he  would  offer  him  a 
Bible. 

"I  shall  vote  against  the  Candidate,  for  I  can 
never  be  a  Christian !" 

Some  wept  as  they  heard  these  terrible  words, 
yet  the  Professor  had  voiced  the  sentiments  of 
the  major  part  of  the  audience. 

The  closing  speech  was  made  by  John  Morgan, 
who,  rising  with  a  shadow  on  his  face,  said  in 
tones  of  awful  solemnity,  "We  have  come  to  the 
parting  of  the  ways.  Several  speakers  have 
avowed  that  they  will  not  have  this  Man  to  reign 
over  them.  Then,  who  will  reign  over  them?  To 
what  party  do  they  belong?  The  crisis  has  come 
when  we  must  decide  whether  Christ  is  the  Head 
of  the  church  or  not.  If  we  vote  for  him,  we 
thereby  agree  to  follow  his  authority  and  to  dis- 
card the  heresies  that  have  crept  in  among  us.  If 
we  vote  against  him,  we  declare  ourselves  infi- 
dels.   The  issue  is  clearly   drawn.     This   is   the 


80  THE  BRIDE'S  RETURNED. 

question  for  your  decision:  Is  this  congregation 
a  Christian  church?" 

"No!"  replied  Dr.  Lyman,  as  Morgan  took  his 
seat;  "Grand  Avenue  is  rather  a  pan-creedal 
church.  We  accept  all  philosophies,  and  even  re- 
ligions, that  meet  the  requirements  of  modern 
culture;  and  we  welcome  all  creeds,  whether 
formulated  by  Zoroaster,  Confucius,  Christ,  or 
Gautama,  so  far  as  they  are  in  harmony  with  the 
inner  consciousness  of  man." 

As  the  ballots  were  distributed,  many  of  the 
members  filled  them  out  without  thought,  and 
frivolously;  a  few  hesitated;  some  declined  to 
vote ;  while  others  fell  upon  their  knees  in  prayer, 
writing  in  tenderest  love  on  their  wisps  of  paper, 
"For  Christ." 

When  the  ballots  had  been  collected  and  count- 
ed, the  tellers  announced  the  result  as  follows: 

Total  number  of  votes  cast 405 

For  Christ,  votes  cast 73 

Against  Christ,  votes  cast 332 

Christ  rejected — no  election. 
A  Jew,  who  had  been  interested  in  the  momen- 
tous issue  of  the  church's  action,  applied  at  once 
for  membership,  saying,  "I  can  now  join  dees 
chu'ch.  Dare  ish  no  needt  of  Christ;  ve  zhust 
needt  Got,  and  not  much  of  'im.  De  wo'ldt  needts 
pusiness  mo'  dan  relizhshun." 

Prof.  Lyman  proposed  also  the  name  of  a  Japa- 
nese student,  who  was  attending  a  course  of  lee- 


HIS  OWN  RECEIVED  HIM  NOT.  81 

tures  at  the   College  on   Comparative  Religions 
with  a  view  to  becoming  a  Buddhist  priest. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"I  AM  A  CHRISTIAN/' 

When  Mason  Saunders  closed  his  speech  against 
Christ,  he  glanced  furtively  to  his  left  as  if  to  see 
what  impression  his  remarks  had  made  on  Co- 
rinne  Howard,  whose  smile  he  valued  above  that 
of  all  others.  Observing  her  beautiful  face  deep- 
ly crimsoned,  he  thought  he  discovered  disap- 
pointment stamped  unmistakably  upon  all  of  its 
noble  features.  It  became  at  once  clear  to  him 
that  Corinne  had  taken  her  stand  resolutely  with 
the  spiritual  forces  of  the  church,  thus  espousing 
the  cause  that  he  had  just  trampled  under  his 
feet;  and  he  began  to  fear  that  there  was  now  a 
distance  between  them  greater  than  he  imagined 
could  ever  exist. 

After  the  conference  had  adjourned,  while 
many  were  hastening  through  the  vestibule,  little 
squads  of  congenial  spirits  gathered  in  the  lecture- 
room  discussing  the  action  of  the  church,  some 
jubilant  in  the  triumph  of  liberalism,  others 
heart-broken  by  the  rejection  of  their  Lord.  Miss 
Howard  was  standing  by  her  father  as  he  was 
busy  outlining  a  plan  for  the  guidance  of  the 


"I    AM    A    CHRISTIAN." 


83 


Redeemer's  flock,  when  young  Saunders,  thinking 
he  saw  his  opportunity  to  engage  Corinne's  com- 
pany, approached  her  with  the  prepossessing  air 
of  a  man  of  society,  and  asked,  in  a  low  tone,  to 
have  the  pleasure  of  escorting  her  home.  The 
flush  had  now  died  out  of  Corinne's  cheek,  and 
the  sadness  had  given  place  to  a  fixed  calmness. 
She  bent  her  magnificent  azure  eyes  upon  her 
lover  for  a  moment,  then,  with  the  refinement 
of  a  lady  and  the  dignity  of  religion,  she  replied, 
"Mr.  Saunders,  please  be  kind  enough  to  excuse 
me ;  my  father  has  my  company  to-day." 

Saunders  colored  and  his  pulse  quickened. 
Corinne  had  never  appeared  to  show  reserve  to- 
wards him  before,  and  his  pride  was  touched.  It 
was  marvellous  in  the  eyes  of  the  brilliant  young 
lawyer,  belonging  as  he  did,  to  one  of  the  old 
aristocratic  families  of  Woodville,  and  a  leader  of 
its  society,  how  any  young  lady  could  treat  him 
with  indifference.  And  then,  too,  it  was  all  the 
stranger,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  he  had  a  suc- 
cessful practice  on  his  own  account,  and  at  the 
same  time  was  heir  to  his  father's  immense  for- 
tune, that  Corinne  Howard,  though  cultured  and 
beautiful,  and  possessing  the  figure  of  a  Grecian 
goddess,  should  refuse  his  attentions.  As  he 
gazed  upon  the  handsome  girl,  whose  dominant 
principle  was  faith,  he  asked  in  somewhat 
haughty  tone,  "Corinne  Howard,  may  I  ask  an 


84  THE  BRIDE'S  RETURN 

explanation  of  your  refusal  to  accept  my  com- 
pany this  morning?" 

Corinne,  recalling  the  irreverent  and  sceptical 
remarks  of  Saunders  in  the  business  meeting, 
drew  herself  up  in  the  full  consciousness  of 
right,  and  calmly  replied,  "Because  I  am  a 
Christian!" 

When  Miss  Howard  returned  to  her  home,  she 
took  up  one  of  the  exquisite  invitations,  which 
announced  that  the  marriage  would  take  place 
just  three  weeks  from  thence,  and  read  it  half 
aloud.  She  almost  swooned  as  she  realized  that 
she  was  bound  by  her  sacred  honor  to  Mason 
Saunders.  All  the  arrangements  had  been  made 
for  a  fashionable  wedding,  the  invitations  had 
been  sent  to  a  large  circle  of  friends,  her  trous- 
seau had  been  ordered  from  New  York  modistes, 
and  even  some  presents  had  begun  to  arrive.  Was 
it  possible,  she  thought,  to  make  an  honorable 
change  at  this  late  hour?  She  had  recently  con- 
secrated herself  to  Jesus,  vowing  to  follow  him 
as  her  great  Shepherd.  What  does  the  Shep- 
herd say  to  his  flock?  "Be  ye  not  unequally  yoked 
together  with  unbelievers."  Saunders,  though  a 
nominal  Christian,  was  really  an  unbeliever,  as 
he  had  clearly  shown  in  the  late  church  con- 
ference. Saunders  or  Christ  was  the  perplexing 
question  that  now  faced  her.  In  her  agony  of 
mind  she  fled  to  her  dressing-case,  taking  there- 


"I   AM   A   CHRISTIAN."  85 

from  a  large  bundle  of  letters,  tied  with  ribbons, 
which  she  had  sacredly  preserved.  They  were  all 
written  in  the  same  smooth  Spencerian  hand,  and 
all  smacked  of  love  and  marriage.  She  knew 
them  well-nigh  by  heart,  for  no  other  letters  had 
ever  awakened  within  her  such  happy  memories, 
and  the  one  beatific  dream  of  her  life  had  been 
to  be  the  wife  of  their  author.  The  last  of  these 
missives,  received  just  the  day  before  the  sad 
occurrences  at  Grand  Avenue  Church,  she  read 
and  reread. 

My  divinest  Corinne:  Since  you  gave  me  your 
heart,  my  soul  has  leaped  into  the  light.  I  never 
knew  the  meaning  of  joy  before — real,  lasting 
joy.  The  whole  circle  of  the  gods  are  smiling  on 
my  path,  while  Hebe  tills  my  cup  with  nectar. 
And  now,  to  think  that  in  three  short  weeks  you 
will  be  Mrs.  Saunders!  mine,  wholly  mine,  only 
mine,  forever  mine!  I  dream  all  night  of  you.  I 
behold  in  splendid  visions  your  angelic  form  bend- 
ing above  me.  I  see  heaven  in  your  eyes,  I  hear 
seraphic  symphonies  in  your  voice.  The  stars 
encircle  your  brow;  the  roses  sleep  on  your  cheeks; 
winding  brooks,  at  your  smile,  "break  into  dimples 
and  laugh  in  the  sun,"  while  the  gates  of  Elysium 
open  to  your  touch. 

Only  three  weeks,  dearest,  sweetheart  mine,  and 
the  Nymphs,    Naiads,    and   Sirens    will    chant,    in 
accents  holy,  "Mrs.    Corinne    Howard    Saunders!" 
Yours  only  and  forever, 

Mason. 


86  THE  BRIDE'S  RETURN 

"Mrs.  Saunders!"  exclaimed  Corinne;  and  she 
could  not  help  feeling  some  degree  of  satisfaction 
as  she  uttered  the  words.  What  young  woman 
in  Woodville,  thought  she,  would  refuse  to  accept 
that  proud  title?  Saunders  ruled,  with  the  power 
of  an  autocrat,  the  fashionable  circles  of  the  city, 
controlled  largely  the  policy  of  Grand  Avenue 
Church,  and  withal,  was  a  multimillionaire. 
And  yet,  he  was  an  unbeliever!  So  many 
questions  arose  in  her  mind.  Mason,  thought 
she,  had  made  an  ardent  lover,  but  would  he 
prove  a  congenial  husband?  She  asked  herself 
over  and  over  again,  could  an  unsaved  man,  and 
he  an  avowed  enemy  of  Christ,  add  anything  to 
her  life?  Could  she  draw  inspiration  from  daily 
contact  with  an  unbeliever?  Could  a  sceptic  help 
her  in  her  pilgrimage  to  the  skies,  or  sympathize 
with  her  inmost  longings  and  profoundest  love? 
Would  not  Mason's  worldliness  act  as  a  damper  to 
her  hopes?  Could  she  behold  his  selfish  schemes 
and  not  shudder  to  call  him  husband?  Deity  has 
declared  of  the  married  pair  that  they  twain  shall 
be  one — one  in  purpose,  faith,  destiny;  but  can 
the  soul,  redeemed  by  the  blood  of  the  cross,  be 
one  with  an  unbeliever?  Can  there  be  concord 
between  Christ  and  Belial  ?  Can  two  walk  together 
except  they  be  agreed?  As  such  misgivings 
wrought  on  her  sensitive  conscience,  she  sank 
upon  her  knees,  and  told  Jesus  the  whole  story  of 


•'So  Many  Questions  Arose  in  Her  Mind. 


"I  AM  A  CHRISTIAN."  89 

her  anguish.    When  she  arose,  calm  and  resolute, 
she  wrote  these  crucial  words: 

Dear  Mason:  I  have  thought  I  owed  you  a 
larger  explanation  than  I  gave  yesterday  as  we 
parted;  and,  without  preface,  please  bear  with 
me  while  I  add  this  reason.  When  I  gave  you  my 
promise  of  marriage,  I  was  sincere  in  thinking  I 
understood  my  affections.  We  were  both  young; 
and  I  confess  that  I,  for  my  part,  looked  almost 
entirely  on  the  romantic  side  of  matrimony.  I 
had  not  duly  considered  many  things  then,  which 
now  appear  to  be  absolutely  essential.  For 
instance,  there  should  be  congeniality  between  us ; 
and  yet,  I  find,  to  my  great  sorrow,  that  we 
differ  widely  in  our  religious  convictions.  I  love 
Christ  more  than  I  can  ever  love  any  man,  while 
you  even  rejected  him.  Your  attitude  towards  our 
sacred  religion  has  just  lately  been  made  clear; 
hence  this  question  had  never  received  my  atten- 
tion; and  besides,  recent  developments  at  Grand 
Avenue  Church  have  changed  my  views  of  life 
and  duty  in  some  very  important  particulars.  I 
have  learned  tha";  the  Saviour  is  enthroned  above 
all,  and  that  no  alliance  should  be  formed  that 
obscures  his  place  or  dishonors  his  name. 

In  view  of  these  changes,  I  feel  that  I  am  but 
acting  an  honorable  part,  alike  to  you  and  to  my- 
self, in  dissolving  our  engagement.  I  hope, 
Mason,  you  will  not  think  me  either  frivolous  or 
fickle,  but  simply  sincere.  It  is  a  matter  of  re- 
gret that  I  could  not  have  made  known  to  you 
the  contents  of  this  letter  before  arrangements 
for  the  wedding  had  progressed,  but  the  deter- 


90 


THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN 


mining  cause  was  lacking  till  the  unfortunate  de- 
velopments of  our  late  church  conference. 
I  return  herewith  your  ring  and  letters. 

Your  friend, 

Corinne  Howard. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  WRECK. 

At  the  close  of  the  late  conference,  the  elect 
resolved  to  meet  at  the  church  the  next  Sabbath 
evening  for  the  purpose  of  reconsidering  the 
action  which  had  rejected  Jesus.  The  opposition, 
made  up  largely  of  non-church-goers,  fashionable 
society  people,  and  sceptics,  had  become  quite  in- 
different since  their  fierce  conduct  at  the  previous 
meeting,  to  which  they  had  been  drummed  up  for 
a  special  purpose.  This  circumstance  explains 
the  absence  of  the  anti-Christs  on  the  present  occa- 
sion, and  also  their  entire  disregard  of  the  im- 
portant notice  served  on  them  by  the  faithful  and 
true. 

When  the  little  band  of  believers  came  to- 
gether, the  recent  action  of  the  church  was  re- 
considered on  motion  of  a  member  who  had  been 
led  to  see  the  error  of  his  former  vote. 

Jesus  was  now  reverently  elected  as  the  Shep- 
herd of  Grand  Avenue  Church,  and  John  Morgan 
was  chosen  to  extend  the  call. 

Humbly  kneeling,  hands  clasped,  faces  turned 
upward,  the  flock  made  known  its  choice,  through 


92  THE  BRIDE'S  RETURN. 

its  appointed  spokesman.  Deacon  Morgan  prayed : 

0  Jesus,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  thou 
gracious  Head  of  the  church,  we  abase  ourselves 
before  thee,  beseeching  thee  to  hear  the  cause  of 
thy  people.  We  are  as  sheep  having  no  shepherd, 
and  the  wolves  have  preyed  upon  the  scattered 
flock.  Belial  has  usurped  thy  rightful  place  in  the 
sanctuary,  and  hirelings  have  mocked  thee  in  the 
pulpit,  while  Satan  is  the  god  of  many.  Brotherly 
love  has  waxed  cold,  prayer  has  been  abandoned, 
thy  Book  is  unread,  and  faith  is  dead.  0  Lord, 
how  long?  For  Zion  thou  didst  suffer  and  die; 
and  yet,  in  thine  own  courts,  thou  hast  been 
crucified  afresh  and  put  to  an  open  shame. 

Gracious  Redeemer,  a  remnant  of  thine  own, 
on  bended  knees,  with  longing  hearts  and  weeping 
eyes  implore  thee  to  become  our  Pastor,  whose 
own  the  sheep  are.  With  one  voice  we  entreat 
thee ;  we  throw  open  every  door  as  thou  knockest ; 
every  heart  welcomes  thee;  every  will  bows  to 
thy  rightful  authority.  We  place  on  the  altar  of 
they  service  our  means,  our  bodies,  and  our  souls, 
seeing  thou  hast  bought  us  with  thy  precious 
blood;  and  we  will  follow  the  Lamb  whither- 
soever he  goeth.  We  do  solemnly  pledge  our 
sacred  honor  that,  under  the  guidance  of  thy 
Spirit,  we  will  purify  thy  house,  reproduce  Apos- 
tolic practice  and  methods,  and,  by  divine  grace, 
be  faithful  unto  death. 

Let  the  King  hear  us  when  we  call;  even  so, 
Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly. 

The  congregation  sobbed,  "Amen  and  amen." 


Christ,  the  Good  Shepherd,  Takes  Charge  of  His 
Flock — Grand  Avenue  Church. 


THE  WRECK.  95 

All  remained  kneeling,  looking  heavenward  in 
reverential  awe,  awaiting  the  Shepherd's  answer. 
As  they  waited  and  hoped,  light  crept  into  each 
face,  a  serene  joy  filled  each  heart,  and  great  hot, 
loving  tears  flowed  down  many  a  cheek.  The 
Lord  had  come. 

The  Master's  presence  suggested  to  the  church 
the  immediate  necessity  of  complying  with  the 
Gospel  plan  in  securing  an  under  shepherd,  who, 
by  virtue  of  the  Spirit's  enduement,  should  inter- 
pret Jesu3  to  them.  All  hearts,  as  if  by  one 
mighty  celestial  impulse,  turned  at  once  to  John 
Ernest,  a  humble  minister,  well  known  indeed  at 
Summit,  the  field  of  his  abundant  labors,  but  little 
known  abroad,  since  he  was  wholly  devoid  of 
sensational  methods. 

When  Mr.  Ernest  entered  the  pulpit  on  a  beau- 
tiful morning  in  October,  in  answer  to  an  official 
invitation  to  visit  the  field  before  forming  a  decis- 
ion, a  dark  shadow  fell  over  the  proud  congrega- 
tion of  Grand  Avenue  Church.  He  was  not  hand- 
some, nor  especially  eloquent;  but  manly  to  the 
core.  The  fire  of  truth  shone  in  his  honest  eyes. 
He  spoke  in  a  deep,  musical  tone,  and  in  an  easy, 
confident  manner.  It  became  straightway  clear 
to  all  discerning  minds  that  the  pastor  elect  had 
but  one  master,  and  that  was  Christ.  His  studied 
plainness,  his  disregard  of  the  tricks  and  tinsel  of 
oratory,  and  his  apparent  indifference  to  the  opin- 


96 


THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 


ions  and  criticisms  of  his  wealthy  and  fashionable 
audience,  created,  at  the  very  start,  an  unfavor- 
able impression  on  the  major  part  of  his  hearers. 
Even  believers  betrayed  anxiety  as  to  results, 
while  Col.  James  was  amused  and  Mason  Saun- 
ders laughed. 

The  action  of  Grand  Avenue  Church  in  calling 
to  its  pastorate  John  Ernest,  caused  remark  in 
every  circle  of  Woodville  society.  Men  stood  at 
street  corners,  shaking  their  heads,  gesticulating 
in  weird  earnestness;  jangling  voices  indicated  a 
division  of  sentiment.  At  late  hours  in  saloons 
it  was  the  one  question  that  engaged  the  thought 
of  the  old  tippler,  or  the  embryo  in  strong  drink. 
Clubs  and  lodges  and  churches  were  moved  as 
never  before  by  the  calling  of  a  minister  to  a 
Woodville  charge.  The  circumstances  were,  in- 
deed, peculiar.  The  most  sensational  church  in 
the  State  had  selected  a  pastor  noted  for  none  of 
the  arts  of  oratory,  without  charms  of  personnel, 
a  man  emphatically  spiritual  and  unsensational. 
There  were  knowing  ones  who  prophesied  that 
this  radical  change  would  damage  the  church  not 
only  socially  and  financially,  but  even  religiously. 
It  was  generally  admitted  that  a  crisis  had  arisen, 
and  all  awaited  the  development  of  events,  should 
John  Ernest  accept  the  call. 

As  soon  as  the  result  of  his  decision  was  an- 
nounced, leading  spirits  in  the  James'  faction  met 


THE  WRECK.  97 

in  the  vestibule  for  consultation;  after  a  brief 
conference,  they  adjourned  to  one  of  the  club- 
rooms  to  formulate  a  plan  to  thwart  the  action  of 
the  church.  It  had  been  noised  abroad  that  John 
Ernest  was  instrumental  in  closing  the  saloons  in 
Summit,  his  present  pastorate;  and  it  was  gener- 
ally believed,  that  if  he  came  to  Woodville,  he 
would  make  war  upon  the  liquor  interests,  and  in 
all  probability  abolish  the  traffic.  This  would 
entail  financial  loss  on  many  of  the  Grand  Avenue 
folk,  and  business  disaster  on  Col.  James.  After 
many  expedients,  such  as  writing  anonymous 
menacing  letters  to  Ernest  and  threatening  to 
withdraw  in  a  body  fellowship  from  the  church, 
had  been  proposed,  yet  none  of  them  proving  sat- 
isfactory, it  was  decided  that  the  whole  matter  be 
intrusted  to  Col.  James  as  having  the  largest  in- 
terests at  stake,  and  as  being  the  fittest  instrumen- 
tality to  accomplish  the  desired  end.  The  Colonel 
imbibed  too  freely  of  the  sparkling  old  cognac, 
which  was  ever  kept  at  the  rooms  to  do  its  fright- 
ful service,  and  left  the  conclave  for  a  quarter  of 
the  city  which  he  was  never  known  before  to 
visit  in  the  night. 

Ernest  spent  Sabbath  night  at  the  home  of 
Judge  Castleberry,  from  which,  without  disturb- 
ing the  family,  he  stepped  out  on  the  street  at 
four-thirty  in  the  morning,  and  hailed  a  trolley 
bound  for  the  railroad  station.     He  was  stirring 


98  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

at  this  unseasonable  hour  in  order  to  meet  a 
pressing  engagement  at  his  church  in  Summit. 
As  might  be  expected,  not  many  persons  were 
traveling  on  a  four-thirty  car.  In  fact,  besides 
the  minister,  there  was  but  one  passenger — a 
little  oldish-looking  girl  with  Jewish  features, 
wrapped  in  a  faded  shawl.  The  clergyman  asked, 
in  a  kindly  voice,  if  she  loved  Jesus.  She  replied 
with  decided  Hebrew  accent  that  she  did  not 
know  him.  The  conversation  was  interrupted  by 
the  conductor,  crying,  "Fare,  please !"  The  nickel 
paid,  Ernest  spoke  tenderly  to  the  conductor 
about  his  soul,  and  was  just  pushing  back  the 
door,  to  talk  on  the  same  theme  with  the  motor- 
man,  when  a  terrific  explosion  shook  the  earth 
and  wrenched  the  car  from  the  track.  Broken 
in  twain,  its  severed  ends  were  speedily  enveloped 
in  red  tongues  of  fire,  while  fragments  here  and 
there  had  been  sent  whizzing  through  the  murky 
air.  John  Ernest  and  the  motorman  were  thrown 
on  an  embankment;  so,  barring  sprains,  bruises, 
and  shocks,  they  were  not  seriously  injured. 
Ernest  staggered  towards  the  burning  wreck, 
calling  to  the  conductor ;  who,  having  received  the 
full  force  of  the  concussion,  was  instantly  killed, 
and  lay  some  distance  from  the  track.  He  then 
seized  a  burning  board,  by  whose  light  he  made 
diligent  search  for  the  queer  little  girl.  He  called 
aloud  with  ever  varying  pathos,  yet  without  re- 


'A  man,  with  a  face  like  a  demon,  glared  at  h'm  for  a  moment 
through  the  bushes,  then  disappeared  into  the  darkness." 


THB   WRECK.  101 

sponse,  save  as  his  own  cries  were  echoed  by  a 
distant  hill.  Could  she  have  been  burned  to  death 
in  the  car?  No;  for  he  could  see  in  the  horrid 
glare  of  its  blazing  ruins  that  it  was  empty.  He 
then  crossed  the  track  and  called  again,  but  still 
without  answer.  He  put  his  hand  to  his  ear  and 
listened ;  he  heard  only  his  heart  beating.  It  was 
a  desolate  section  in  the  outskirts  of  the  town, 
hence  no  help  was  obtainable.  He  went  on  a  few 
yards,  thinking  he  heard  a  faint  groan  not  far 
away.  He  called  again,  waving  his  torch  high 
in  the  air.  He  saw  in  the  dim  light  the  form  of 
a  man  crouching  in  an  undergrowth  of  shrub- 
bery. The  man  stared  at  him  for  a  moment,  like 
a  demon,  and  then  disappeared  in  the  darkness. 
Ernest  recognized  the  face  as  one  he  had  seen  in 
the  Sunday  morning  congregation.  He  did  not 
know  the  name,  but  he  was  sure  this  savage-look- 
ing man  was  the  finely  habited  gentleman  who 
had  seemed  amused  when  he  first  entered  the 
pulpit.  He  heard  the  escaped  motorman  crying 
the  alarm  in  the  distance,  and  then  another  groan 
back  towards  the  wreck.  There  was  no  light  now, 
save  when  here  and  there  a  dying  ember  would 
burst  into  yellow  flame,  and  flickering  for  a 
moment,  go  out  forever.  A  few  gray  streaks  were 
beginning  to  appear  in  the  east,  but  they  did  not 
as  yet  relieve  the  darkness.  Another  groan — 
and  still  another!    As  the  minister  hastened  for- 


102  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

ward,  he  descried  dimly  a  dark  object  some  paces 

before  him,  still  groaning.  His  foot  touched  the 
body,  a  hand  grasped  his  trousers  convulsively, 
and  a  tiny  voice  tried  to  speak.  The  child  was 
half  unconscious  and  cold;  she  made  an  attempt 
to  rise,  but  her  strength  failing,  she  fell  back  in 
a  swoon  upon  the  ground.  Ernest  took  off  his 
overcoat,  wrapped  it  snugly  around  the  shivering 
little  waif,  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  and  started 
down  the  trolley  track  in  search  of  the  City  Hos- 
pital, which  he  knew  was  not  far  from  Grand 
Avenue  Church;  for  he  had  spent  half  an  hour 
there  Sunday  afternoon,  talking  with  a  dying 
sinner.  As  he  turned  down  Grand  Avenue,  he 
met  an  early  scavenger  whom  he  requested  to 
take  the  girl  in  his  cart  to  the  hospital;  but  the 
man  replied  that  it  was  his  business  to  haul  about 
a  different  sort  of  trash  from  that,  and  passed  on. 
As  the  cart  wheels  slowly  grated  on  the  macadam, 
Ernest  told  the  scavenger  of  Christ;  and,  his 
sprained  ankle  beginning  to  trouble  him  seriously, 
he  limped  along  in  agony,  breathing  quick,  to- 
wards the  hospital.  He  passed  a  house,  as  a  gen- 
tleman was  coming  down  its  marble  steps, 
elegantly  dressed,  a  satchel  in  one  hand  and  a 
gold-headed  cane  in  the  other;  Ernest  stopped  a 
moment,  laid  his  burden  on  a  stepping-stone, 
looked  back,  and  asked  the  gentleman  if  he  could 
assist  him  to  the  hospital,  telling  him  briefly  of 


THE  WRECK.  103 

the  disaster.  The  stranger,  puckering  his  lips 
about  his  cigar,  puffed  two  blue  streams  of  smoke 
through  his  nose,  without  reply.  It  was  Dr. 
Arlington.  The  limp  child  was  again  taken  up, 
and  at  the  next  corner,  the  dome  of  the  hospital 
came  into  view.  An  aged  nurse  met  them  at  the 
door  with  a  kindly  smile,  and  led  the  way  to  a 
small  room,  where  the  child  was  laid  on  a  com- 
fortable bed.  When  her  bruised  head  touched  the 
pillow,  her  eyes  opened;  and  gazing  vacantly  into 
her  benefactor's  face,  and  recognizing  the  passen- 
ger who  had  told  her  of  a  strange  being,  she 
whispered,  "Is  you  Jesus?"  The  minister  gave 
the  nurse  a  bill,  with  the  instruction  to  purchase 
some  necessary  clothing  for  his  ward ;  and  taking 
leave  of  the  little  patient,  pressed  tenderly  her 
thin  hand,  asking  her  name;  and  she  said, 
"Rooney," 

Having  missed  connection,  and  having  to  wait 
several  hours  for  the  next  train,  Ernest  visited 
the  scene  of  the  accident.  Many  curious  people 
had  preceded  him,  while  many  as  curious  were 
following  him.  The  timbers  were  still  smoking: 
the  dead  conductor  lay  on  his  back,  awaiting  an 
inquest,  face  bathed  in  the  morning  light,  a 
broken-hearted  wife  bending  over  him  caressing 
his  brow,  as  if  life  might  return.  Near  the  wreck 
lay  a  piece  of  the  dynamite  bomb,  the  argument  of 
the  assassin   and  the  symbol   of  anarchy.     The 


104  fTHE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

prospect  was  weird; — in  the  blaze  of  civilization, 
under  the  shadow  of  the  court-house,  in  sight  of 
the  city  steeples,  a  crime  that  would  have  dis- 
honored darkest  paganism.  The  preacher  shud- 
dered; and  this  the  field  to  which  he  had  been 
called ! 

There  was  yet  a  spot  to  which  he  seemed  drawn 
as  by  some  strange  charm.  He  penetrated  the 
group  of  small  trees  in  which  he  had  seen  the 
fierce-looking  man  just  after  the  accident.  Be- 
hold! there  were  the  very  tracks!  he  stood  in 
them,  the  footprints  of  his  would-be  assassin,  and 
with  cheeks  wet  with  tears,  looking  towards 
heaven,  he  prayed  that  God  might  forgive  and 
save  even  this  poor  wretch!  As  he  gazed  in  the 
direction  the  murderer  had  fled,  he  spied  a  shin- 
ing object  suspended  from  a  bending  brier; 
eagerly  hastening  to  it,  he  took  it  in  his  hand — a 
watch-key ! 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  NEW  LORD'S  SUPPER. 

Having  now  settled  with  his  Grand  Avenue 
charge,  at  the  first  communion  season,  Mr.  Ernest 
departed  from  the  long-established  custom  of  ad- 
ministering the  memorial  ordinance,  saying  he 
hoped  the  church  would  not  object  to  a  change 
in  the  service,  since  he  felt  sure  the  rite  had  lost 
most  of  its  significance  from  current  usage.  "If 
Christ  stood  among  you  in  the  flesh,  he  would  say, 
'A  new  ordinance  give  I  unto  you,'  yet  it  would 
be  but  the  old  made  new.  As  ordinarily  observed, 
it  brings  no  comfort  to  the  great  mass  of  partici- 
pants, leads  to  no  real  communion  with  Jesus, 
though  this  is  its  one  great  purpose,  and  produces 
no  consecration  of  life;  but  it  is  taken  under 
protest,  is  conceived  as  an  unpleasant  duty,  and 
is  classed  among  unprofitable  and  unmeaning 
acts." 

Many  had  ceased  to  hold  the  Supper  as  a 
matter  of  vital  importance,  regarding  it  as  a  bone 
of  contention  between  rival  creeds,  while  not  a 
few  would  willingly  see  it  erased  from  the  church 
worship.     The  ordinance  had  become  a  mere  ap- 


106  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

pendage  of  the  morning  service,  participated  in 
by  persons  whose  breath  was  scented  with  beer, 
whose  reputation  for  integrity  was  discounted  on 
every  corner  of  the  street,  and  whose  brain  was 
still  reeling  from  the  wild  mazes  of  a  round  dance. 
He  said  also:  "In  apostolic  days,  the  church 
came  together  for  the  express  purpose  of  break- 
ing bread ;  and  that  there  should  be  such  a  seaso» 
now,  when  the  atonement  is  exalted  and  the 
coming  again  of  the  Lord  is  made  prominent. 
Did  not  the  Master  himself  say  through  his  in- 
spired servant,  that  we  should  do  this  till  he  come, 
intimating  that  we  should  be  mindful  of  his 
glorious  appearing?  Let  us  not  lose  sight  of  these 
things  in  the  haste  to  get  to  our  homes  when  we 
have  already  become  tired  in  the  preceding  ser- 
vice. The  great  apostle  taught  us  that  we  should 
not  celebrate  the  Lord's  Supper  unworthily; 
hence,  persons  living  in  disobedience,  setting  un- 
holy examples,  or  engaged  in  dishonorable  busi- 
ness, or  oersons  divorced  on  any  but  Scriptural 
grounds,  should  not  present  themselves  at  the 
Lord's  table."    . 

The  minister's  words  were  as  a  peal  of  thunder 
in  a  clear  sky.  The  people,  already  bewildered, 
were  now  dazed;  their  heads  swam;  and  all  were 
in  doubt,  saying,  What  meaneth  this  ?  The  Lord's 
Supper  had  now  taken  on  a  new  meaning ;  it  was 
to  become  a  vital  force  in  the  church  life. 


THE   NEW   LORD'S   SUPPER..  107 

The  pastor  began  worship  by  asking,  with  the 
directness  and  simplicity  of  a  child,  the  Heavenly 
Father  to  remove  all  obstacles  in  the  way  of  com- 
munion with  his  Son,  and  to  give  the  Spirit  to 
show  all  the  worshipers  the  things  of  Christ.  He 
then  read,  with  all  the  music  of  a  voice  conse- 
crated to  the  exaltation  of  Jesus,  the  old  classic 
hymn  relating  to  the  atonement,  beginning, 

"Alas !  and  did  my  Saviour  bleed 

And  did  my  Sovereign  die? 
Would  he  devote  that  sacred  head 

For  such  a  worm  as  I?" 

A  score  of  voices,  tremulous  with  emotion,  not 
waiting  for  the  chorister  to  lead,  caught  up  the 
familiar  tune,  filling  the  church  with  unwonted 
praise.  This  was  quite  a  departure  in  Grand 
Avenue  Church;  but  the  effect  was  electrical, 
though  the  choir  refused  to  sing  at  all.  As  the 
last  notes  of  holy  song  died  away,  the  minister 
read  some  of  the  prophecies  concerning  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  Messiah,  followed  by  the  Gospel  narra- 
tive of  his  sufferings  and  of  the  institution  of 
the  supper,  closing  with  Paul's  statement  of  the 
ordinance  in  his  first  letter  to  the  Corinthians. 
He  stood  on  the  floor  of  the  church,  in  front  of  the 
pulpit,  and  spoke  for  about  eight  minutes,  show- 
ing our  need  of  a  Saviour,  his  claims  on  us,  and 


108  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

urging  the  members  to  absolute  surrender.  He 
said  that  we  have  as  real  communion  at  the 
Lord's  table  with  Jesus  as  the  angels  in  heaven 
have:  that  it  is  not  a  form,  nor  a  ceremony,  nor 
a  fictitious  union,  but  a  vital  fellowship;  that  the 
Saviour  was  there  in  touch  with  all  worshipers; 
heard  them,  saw  them,  knew  them,  loved  them, 
blessed  them.  And  as  he  pointed  to  the  Son  of 
Man  as  standing  among  them  in  his  offices  of 
Redeemer,  Priest  and  King,  the  divine  presence 
became  so  real,  that  many  wept  aloud,  while  the 
aged  colored  sexton  hobbled  up  the  aisle  and  fell 
down  before  the  communion  table,  crying  in  exul- 
tation, "Dis  is  heben;  de  Master  hab  come,  fur 
Chris'  done  totch  me." 

Rob  Shandon,  too,  was  the  subject  of  an  un- 
usual impulse.  The  poor  boy  had  been  restored 
to  church  fellowship,  and  now  thoroughly  repen- 
tant, was  so  overpowered  by  a  sense  of  the  Lord's 
presence,  that  he  shouted,  "My  Saviour!  my  pre- 
cious Saviour!"  as  if  he  had  seen  the  Christ. 

The  preacher  concluded  his  remarks  with  an 
illustration  drawn  from  the  last  scene  in  our 
Lord's  preresurrection  history.  He  said:  "For 
an  eternal  lesson  to  men,  God  ordained  that  in 
connection  with  the  death  of  his  Son  there  should 
be  three  crosses  on  Calvary.  On  the  central  cross 
Christ  was  crucified;  and  there  were  two  thieves 
crucified  with  him;  one  on  the  right  hand,  and 


THE   NEW   LORD'S    SUPPER.  109 

the  other  on  the  left.  These  robbers  were  crimi- 
nals of  the  vilest  haunts  and  of  the  deepest  dye, 
condemned  by  the  laws  of  their  own  land.  One 
of  them  looks  into  the  face  of  the  divine  Sufferer, 
and  believes;  his  trembling  lips  confess  and  pray. 
The  Lord  assures  him  of  immediate  salvation, 
promising  to  give  him  a  home  in  the  skies.  The 
other,  just  as  near  the  Master,  with  the  same 
record,  the  same  opportunities ,  railed  on  the 
Prince  of  Glory.  He  dies  in  his  sins  unforgiven. 
Thus  the  cross  divided  a  saved  man  from  an  un- 
saved. And  to-day  the  cross  separates,  according 
to  faith,  the  husband  and  the  wife,  the  parent 
and  the  child,  the  brother  and  the  sister,  and  the 
dearest  of  friends.  The  cross  has  a  right  side 
and  a  wrong  side.  One  insures  life,  the  other 
death.  On  which  side,  my  brethren,  are  you?  I 
would  say,  and  I  think  I  have  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord,  that  this  table  forms  a  line  of  clear  demark- 
ation  between  the  church  and  the  world.  In  my 
opinion,"  continued  John  Ernest  slowly  and  feel- 
ingly, "no  worldly  members,  including  those  who 
engage  in  the  german,  those  who  desecrate  the 
Sabbath  by  travel  or  labor,  those  who  read  or 
issue  Sunday  papers,  those  who  gamble  for  money 
or  prizes  or  in  futures,  whether  by  progressive 
euchre,  bridge  whist,  or  in  bucket-shops,  those  who 
patronize  lotteries  or  who  are  dishonest  in  their 
trades,  those  who   indulge    in    vicious    habits    or 


110 


THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 


slander  others,  and  finally  all  who  do  not  strive 
daily  to  lead  Christian  lives,  should  not  partici- 
pate in  the  Lord's  Supper.  Examine  yourselves, 
whether  ye  be  in  the  faith ;  then  receive  the  sacred 
symbols  of  the  Lord's  broken  body.  Judge  ye 
as  men  that  must  give  account." 

Mr.  Ernest,  after  stating  that  any  who  did  not 
wish  to  participate  in  the  Supper,  would  find  op- 
portunity to  retire  during  the  singing,  announced 
in  tones  of  melting  pathos  the  old  favorite, 

"Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken, 
All  to  leave  and  follow  thee; 

Naked,  poor,  despised,  forsaken, 
Thou,  from  hence,  my  all  shalt  be." 


As  a  remnant  of  God's  Zion  rendered  this 
stanza,  with  moistened  eyes,  nearly  the  entire 
congregation  rose,  and  sinner  and  professing  saint 
alike  retired.  Hundreds  went  away ;  hardly  three 
score  remained;  nevertheless,  the  glory  of  the 
Lord  rested  upon  his  chosen,  and  Jesus  moved  in 
blessed  ministry  among  those  that  were  his. 
When  Mr.  Ernest  finished  blessing  the  bread,  and 
pouring  out  his  heart  in  thankfulness  to  God  for 
his  grace  manifested  in  Christ,  the  Saviour's 
presence  was  so  real,  that  Prof.  Shimron  started 
from  his  seat,  repeating  the  Master's  words, 
"Whosoever  he  be  of  you  that  forsaketh  not  all 


THE    NEW   LORD'S    SUPPER.  Ill 

that  he  hath,  he  cannot  be  my  disciple."  "What 
have  I  forsaken?"  moaned  he.  "I  am  clinging  to 
my  old  ways,  fostering  my  old  greed  of  gain,  and 
instead  of  leaving  all,  I  am  striving  unlawfully  to 
get  all.  I'll  take  my  stand  on  the  right  side  of 
the  cross  to-day  with  the  repentant  thief;"  and 
so  saying,  he  went  forward  and  laid  on  the  Lord's 
table  a  lottery  ticket,  which  he  had  drawn  the  day 
before,  entitling  him  to  the  first  cash  prize  of 
$2,500.  "I  begin,"  Mr.  Ernest,  "by  forsaking  this 
prize;  and  I  shall  try  from  this  hour  to  follow 
Christ." 

Moved  by  fhe  professor's  conspicuous  example, 
Mrs.  Castleberry,  whose  worldliness  had  been  so 
great  a  barrier  to  the  happiness  of  her  home  and 
the  spiritual  interests  of  the  church,  advanced  to 
the  front,  sobbing  out,  with  streaming  eyes,  "I 
shall  get  on  the  right  side  of  the  cross,  too,"  and 
taking  from  her  pocket  a  deck  of  cards,  which 
she  always  carried  with  her  for  the  purpose  of 
playing  her  favorite  game  of  progressive  euchre, 
she  deposited  the  cards  on  the  table,  and  forsook 
the  life  of  the  gambler. 

It  was  now,  the  audience  moved  as  by  the 
breath  of  the  Lord,  that  a  youth  haggard  and 
solemn  walked  towards  the  pulpit,  and  suddenly 
turning  round,  faced  the  congregation.  It  was  a 
traveling  salesman.  The  stranger  requested  the 
privilege  of  saying  a  few  words.     "I  have  been, 


112  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

he  said,   "sceptical  and  wayward.     I  have  just 
finished  serving  a  term  in  state' s-prison.    I  came 
here  this  morning  from  sheer  curiosity,  though 
I  had  made  up  my  mind  never  to  enter  a  church 
again.    My  life  seemed  blighted  and  withered.    I 
had  lost  faith  in  all  Christians,  even  ministers. 
But  Mr.  Ernest  has  made  the  cross  a  reality 
While  he  was  preaching,  I  thought  I  saw  Christ 
separating  the  goats  from  the  sheep  at  the  Judg- 
ment.    I  never  had   such  thoughts   before.     I 
realized  that  I  was  lost.     My  heart  is  breaking 
over  my  sins.    I  have  wronged  my  mother,  I  have 
betrayed  innocence,  I  have  spit  on  the  Bible,  and 
I  have  hated  Jesus.     Yet,  Mr.  Ernest  says  there 
is  a  place  at  the  cross  for  repentant  sinners,  so  I 
am  going  to  hang  up  by  the  side  of  the  saved 
thief.    Oh !  sweet  cross !  oh !  blessed  cross !"    And 
great  hot  tears  streamed  down  his  wasted  cheeks. 
The  effect  of  this  communion  service  cannot 
be  described.      The   oldest    members   had   nevei 
witnessed  anything  like  it.    There  was  no  elabor- 
ate sermon,  no  grand  choral  singing,  but  the  real 
presence  of  Jesus. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW. 

One  Sabbath  afternoon,  John  Ernest  left  the 
Sunday-school,  in  company  with  Judge  Castle- 
berry,  whose  home  was  a  couple  of  blocks  beyond 
the  parsonage.  The  minister  was  troubled — the 
scene  of  the  first  service  in  Woodville  returned. 
He  recalled  the  strange  face  of  the  man  that  had 
mysteriously  retired  from  the  church,  and  that 
evil  genius  seemed  to  haunt  him  like  a  demon 
from  the  pit.  And  yet,  was  he  sure  it  was  the 
fiend  that  had  stared  at  him  on  the  awful  night 
of  the  trolley  disaster?  Then,  what  was  the 
motive  of  the  crime?  Was  the  individual,  from 
some  real  or  supposed  wrong,  wreaking  vengeance 
on  the  Woodville  Traction  Company?  Had  he 
some  grudge  against  either  the  conductor  or  the 
motorman,  which  he  sought  to  expunge  in  this 
cowardly  way?  Was  he  aiming,  for  some  unac- 
countable reason,  at  the  life  of  Rooney,  the  little 
Jewish  maid?  It  never  occurred  to  him  that  a 
plot  might  have  been  formed  to  destroy  John 
Ernest  himself.  While  such  unpleasant  thoughts 
were  flitting  through  his  mind,  Judge  Castleberry 


114  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

broke  the  silence ;  remarking  that  it  must  require 
quite  an  effort  for  a  minister  to  become  acquaint- 
ed with  the  members  of  a  large  charge  like  Grand 
Avenue  Church.  Ernest  now  had  the  oppor- 
tunity, he  so  much  craved,  of  making  an  inquiry, 
without  exciting  suspicion. 

"Yes,"  said  he ;  "but  I  often,  in  a  certain  sense, 
get  acquainted  with  people  without  meeting  them, 
by  asking  about  them.  For  instance,  can  you 
give  me  an  introduction,  though  the  party  is 
absent,  to  the  gentleman  who  suddenly  left  church 
during  my  first  service  here?" 

The  Judge  reflected  a  moment,  and  replied,  "I 
don't  recall  such  a  person  just  now;  describe 
him." 

"Well,  he  was  of  medium  height,  rather  stout, 
clean-shaven,  red  face,  small  eyes,  grizzled  hair, 
a  scar  on  the  forehead." 

"Why,"  exclaimed  the  Judge,  "that's  an  exact 
description  of  Col.  James.  Don't  you  know  the 
Colonel?" 

"I  think  I  have  seen  him  a  time  or  two;  but 
I  had  never  before  heard  his  name.    Who  is  he?" 

"Why,  he  is  a  suc'cessful  brewer,  and  — "  here 
the  lawyer  paused —  "a  noted,  or  perhaps  I 
should  say,  a  notorious  member  of  our  church." 

A  tremor  passed  over  the  preacher's  frame; 
and  abruptly  stopping,  he  looked  down  at  the 
curbing. 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW.  115 

"Are  you  sick,  Mr.  Ernest?"  inquired  Judge 
Castleberry,  somewhat  alarmed. 

"Not  sick,  but  perplexed;"  and  waiving  his 
hand  to  the  lawyer,  he  climbed  the  parsonage 
steps. 

The  shadows  had  grown  long  while  he  sat  at 
his  desk  with  his  brow  resting  on  his  hand,  his 
brain  quivering  like  a  guitar  string  when  touched. 
The  tea-bell  rang,  but  he  heard  it  not;  a  second 
time,  longer  and  louder,  but  the  succession  of 
ghostly  phantoms  that  surged  through  his  brain 
refused  to  be  interrupted;  and  it  was  only  when 
Mrs.  Ernest  herself  stood  in  the  door  of  his  study, 
that  he  appeared  to  regain  perfect  consciousness. 

At  tea,  Mrs.  Ernest,  glancing  at  the  care-worn 
features  of  her  husband,  said,  "John,  the  day's 
work  has  told  on  you ;  let  me  give  you  more  coffee ; 
I  know  it  is  against  your  custom  to  take  a  second 
cup,  but  it  will  help  you  in  the  evening  service." 

With  a  vacant  look  of  surprise,  Ernest  started 
up,  observing  mechanically  that  he  had  forgotten 
he  had  to  preach  in  the  evening. 

"I  have  not  given  a  single  thought  to  my  theme 
for  the  night,  and  it  is  now  half  past  six  o'clock." 

"Never  mind,  John;  you  can  hastily  read  your 
notes  over,  and  the  Spirit  will  give  you  utterance. 
Sometimes  your  extemporaneous  discourses  are 
your  best.  But  pray,  tell  me,  my  husband  dear, 
why  you  acted  so  queerly  this  morning  when  we 


116  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

met  that  fashionably  dressed  gentleman  near  the 
corner  of  our  street  and  the  Avenue?  Ever  since, 
a  dark  shadow  has  been  resting  on  you,  and  you 
have  not  been  yourself  at  all.  Now  take  this  cup 
of  hot  coffee — just  this  bare  half-cup,  John;" 
handing  him  some  old  mocha,  whose  aroma  filled 
the  room. 

"Well,  Margaret,  it  is  just  this — and  I  had  as 
well  tell  you  now,  though  I  have  been  striving  to 
conceal  it  from  you  for  the  present.  I  believe  I 
have  spotted  the  man  that  wrecked  the  trolley." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Ernest!"  exclaimed  the  wife  in 
amazement  and  horror.  "Who  in  the  world  can 
it  be?" 

"It  may  be  best  not  to  call  names  just  at  this 
time;  but  he  is  a  member  of  Grand  Avenue 
Church." 

"The  dog!  just  think  of  it!  But  John,"  added 
the  good  woman  slowly  and  with  a  feeling  of 
dread,  "You  can't  do  anything;  you  only  saw 
somebody  in  the  dark,  and  of  course  you  can't  be 
sure  of  his  identity;  so  now  drink  your  coffee, 
and  let  the  matter  drop." 

"As  England's  bard  would  say,  'To  drop  or  not 
to  drop,  that  is  the  question.'  Yet  I  am  sure  I 
am  not  mistaken." 

"But,  John,  do  you  think  the  community  would 
accept  your  statement  under  the  circumstances. 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW.  117 

especially  when  there  is  so  much  ground  for 
doubt?" 

"Margaret,  I  have  pondered  all  that;  neverthe- 
less, God  saw  the  dynamite;  he  saw  the  burn- 
ing car;  he  saw  the  dead  conductor;  and  he  now 
beholds  the  broken-hearted  widow  and  the  penni- 
less orphans;  and  in  his  own  way  he  will  throw 
light  on  this  fearful  problem,  for  he  hates  crime." 

'Then,  why  did  God  permit  it?"  asked  Mrs. 
Ernest,  starting  a  question  of  theology. 

"It  is  the  duty  of  the  community  to  prevent 
crime;  and  the  Deity  permits  what  men  won't 
prevent.  Besides,  Margaret,  I  believe  our  Heaven- 
ly Father  intends  to  bring  good  out  of  this  dis- 
aster. It  is  a  wicked  world  that  has  to  be  in- 
structed by  dynamite,  fire  and  death;  but  God 
has  a  sermon  in  this  crime." 

"And  yet,  dear  husband,  you  know  you  are  a 
Christian  minister,  and  you  — " 

"Just  stop  a  moment,  my  dear;  I  am  also  a 
Christian  citizen.  I  sustain  duties  to  the  state 
as  well  as  to  the  church.  Society  has  been  out- 
raged by  a  deliberate  and  brutal  murder.  I  am 
the  only  being,  so  far  as  I  know,  that  can  give 
evidence  against  the  murderer.  Is  it  possible  for 
me  to  be  either  a  good  citizen  or  a  good  Christian 
and  withhold  that  evidence?  As  a  follower  of 
Jesus,  am  I  not  pledged  to  do  all  in  my  power  for 
the  betterment  and  protection  of  society?     If  I 


118  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

remain  silent,  do  I  not  become  a  partner  in  this 
man's  guilt?" 

"But  don't  you  think  you  owe  something  to  the 
man  as  a  member  of  your  church?"  said  Mrs. 
Ernest,  still  endeavoring  to  solve  the  problem  for 
her  perplexed  husband. 

"Yes;  the  fact  that  I  am  his  pastor,  augments 
the  difficulty ;  at  the  same  time,  however,  it  estab- 
lishes a  duty;  and  yet,  upon  reflection,  I  am  con- 
strained to  think  that  the  man  was  aiming  at  my 
own  life ;  and  is,  therefore,  my  avowed  enemy." 

"Then,"  argued  the  minister's  wife,  with  the 
intuition  of  a  woman,  "your  first  duty  is  that  of  a 
Christian  to  an  enemy;"  little  thinking  that  her 
husband  would  discover  a  profounder  meaning  in 
her  words  than  she  herself  had  intended. 

Abruptly  rising  from  the  table,  he  exclaimed 
with  a  smile,  "I  see  the  first  step  now ;  Christ  will 
show  me  the  next;"  and  he  disappeared  in  the 
street.  As  he  hastened  on,  he  repeated  over  and 
over  the  Saviour's  words,  "If  thy  brother  shall 
trespass  against  thee,  go  and  tell  him  his  fault 
between  thee  and  him  alone."  John  Ernest  knew 
no  fear,  save  the  fear  of  God;  yet  he  perceived 
that  this  was  the  greatest  trial  of  his  ministry. 
He  sped  on  and  on  towards  Salisbury  street,  brain 
throbbing,  heart  beating,  conscious  that  he  had 
to  face  the  monster  that  had  sought  to  kill  him 
in  cold  blood.     He  reached  No.  86,  and  gave  the 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE   SHADOW. 


119 


bell  a  nervous  jerk.     A  servant  responded,  and 
bore  the  pastor's  card  to  Col.  James. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  WATCH-KEY. 

Mrs.  James,  richly  bejeweled,  entered  the  par- 
lor, and  requested  the  pastor  please  to  excuse  her 
husband,  since,  not  feeling  well,  he  had  retired. 

"Mrs.  James,  I  must  see  the  Colonel  at  once." 

"Can't  you  leave  a  message,  Mr.  Ernest?" 

"No,  madam ;  I  am  sorry  I  cannot;  but  my  busi- 
ness is  imperative;  and  concerns  your  husband 
more  than  myself." 

"I  am  sure,  sir,  that  my  husband  does  not  wish 
to  see  you  this  evening;  and  I  think  it  would  not 
be  prudent  to  cross  the  Colonel  so  early  in  your 
ministry.  You  know,  Mr.  Ernest,  that  you  are  a 
raw  hand  on  this  field,  and  that  there  is  some 
prejudice  against  you  among  our  best  people." 

"Mrs.  James,  my  ministry  will  determine  who 
are  the  best  people;  and  I  wish  to  talk  on  that 
subject  with  the  Colonel  at  once." 

"Are  you  aware,  Mr.  Ernest,  that  the  Colonel 
is  our  largest  contributor,  and  if  displeased,  will 
cut  down  your  wages?" 

"Madam,  speak  not  of  money,  when  vital  in- 
terests are  at  stake." 


THE   WATCH-KEY.  121 

"I  shall  ask  Col.  James  again  whether  he  can 
see  you,  sir,"  said  she,  leaving  the  parlor. 

Mrs.  James  returned,  saying  coldly,  "My  hus- 
band desires  to  be  excused;  he  does  not  wish  to 
see  company  this  evening;  call  again,  please." 

"Mrs.  James,  will  you  say  to  your  husband 
for  me,  in  all  kindness,  that  I  have  not  called  as 
company,  but  on  business  that  cannot  be  delayed ; 
and  as  I  shall  be  due  at  the  church  in  a  few  min- 
utes, I  must  see  him  immediately." 

The  woman  becoming  somewhat  alarmed  by 
the  seriousness  of  the  pastor,  hastened  away. 

Col.  James  at  length  appeared,  with  nervous 
step  and  clouded  brow;  and  yet  with  some  affec- 
tation of  pomp.  John  Ernest  arose,  extending  his 
hand.  The  Colonel  shrank  back,  as  if  to  refuse 
this  form  of  greeting,  though  finally  he  held  out 
his  hand  mechanically.  Both  men  took  seats, 
facing  each  other. 

"Col.  James,"  said  Ernest,  "I  have  called  on  a 
matter  of  grave  import,  unpleasant  alike  to  you 
and  to  me.  The  position  is  embarrassing,  yet  I 
want  to  be  of  assistance  to  you,  if  I  can.  The 
first  thing,  however,  that  I  feel  impelled  to  say  is, 
that  our  Lord  commands  an  aggrieved  party  to 
make  known  to  the  offender  his  fault  privately, 
before  further  steps  are  taken.  It  pains  me  to 
say  that  you  have  been  guilty  of  a  grievous  fault, 


122  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

which  I  am  sure  your  conscious  guilt  will  at 
once  define." 

Col.  James,  with  an  air  of  offended  innocence, 
retorted,  "I  think  this  is  a  very  strange  way  to 
greet  one  of  your  members  on  first  sight." 

"Col.  James,  I  have  seen  you  before." 

"Oh!  I  suppose  you  have  seen  me  in  the  con- 
gregation ;  for  I  attend  the  Grand  Avenue  Church 
sometimes." 

"If  I  mistake  not,  I  have  seen  you  when  you 
were  not  at  church." 

"Well,  perhaps  you  have ;  but  you  never  met  me 
before." 

Said  Ernest,  "I  think  I  have." 

"Where,  sir?"  asked  James  with  ill-controlled 
emotion. 

"I  saw  you  in  a  cluster  of  shrubbery  near  the 
wreck  of  the  trolley.  Don't  you  recall  that  night?" 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?"  said  Col.  James,  his 
face  alternately  flushed  and  pallid;  and  half  ris- 
ing, he  continued,  "I  won't  stand  it!  You  have 
come  on  a  peaceful  Sabbath  evening  to  provoke  a 
difficulty  in  my  own  house,  and  to  insult  me  in  the 
bosom  of  my  family." 

"My  dear  sir,"  replied  the  pastor  calmly,  "I  did 
not  aim  to  anger  or  excite  you,  though  my  errand 
may  have  that  effect.  In  the  light  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, I  find  it  my  duty  to  tell  you  your  fault  be- 
tween you  and  me  alone,  and  to  urge  you  to  re- 


THE   WATCH-KEY.  123 

pent.  I  wish  to  say  further,  Col.  James,  that  I 
am  ready,  from  the  depths  of  my  heart,  to  forgive 
the  wrong  you  have  done  me;  and  though  you 
sought  to  destroy  my  life,  I  would  be  only  too 
glad  to  do  all  in  my  power  to  save  yours." 

The  brewer  frowned,  faltered,  at  lengtH  rose 
from  his  seat,  and  with  the  menace  of  a  lion 
roared,  "Retract  that  falsehood !  Swallow  that  in- 
famous slander!  I  give  but  ten  seconds,  coward!" 

"We  have,  perhaps  sir,  different  standards  of 
courage;  but  we  should  both  agree  that  a  state- 
ment of  fact  is  not  falsehood,  and  that  a  true 
charge  is  not  slander.  As  for  seconds,  eternity 
is  mine." 

"Then,  sanctified  craven,  you  will  not  retract?" 

"No,"  replied  the  minister. 

The  brewer,  in  an  explosion  of  rage,  clinched 
his  fist,  thundering,  "John  Ernest,  you  lie!"  then 
struck  him  in  the  face — and  the  blood  followed 
the  blow. 

Ernest  felt  keenly  this  indignity,  as  any  true 
man  would;  but  he  was  too  brave,  too  cool,  and 
above  all,  too  Christlike  to  resent  the  ravings  of 
a  criminal  driven  to  desperation  by  the  presenta- 
tion of  maddening  facts.  So  he  simply  said,  "Col. 
James,  for  Christ's  sake,  I  bear  that  too." 

The  liquor  dealer  stared  and  raved.  The  preach- 
er continued,  "Now,  my  dear  sir,  I  have  told  you 
your  fault,  I  have  expressed  my  willingness  to 


124  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

forgive,  and  could  the  matter  rest  here,  I  would 
rejoice.  I  have  discharged  my  duty  to  you,  but 
I  owe  also  a  duty  to  the  State.  Your  crime  must 
be  divulged.  I  shall  not  prosecute  you  myself,  but 
only  make  known  to  the  officers  of  the  law  what 
I  know  about  the  trolley  disaster  and  the  murder 
committed  thereby.  As  a  good  citizen,  I  can  do 
no  less." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,"  exclaimed  the  murderer, 
alarmed  as  well  as  exasperated,  "that  you  are 
going  to  take  this  infamous  slander  that  you 
have  hatched  up  to  the  courts?"  And  his  voice 
grew  husky. 

"Col.  James,"  said  Ernest  calmly,  "I  advise 
you  to  confess  the  crime  and  to  adjust  yoursetf 
to  the  facts." 

"What  facts?"  inquired  the  brewer  in  great 
confusion. 

"The  fact  that  you  wrecked  by  means  of  dyna- 
mite the  trolley  car,  and  murdered  its  conductor." 

Col.  James  was  pale  with  rage,  not  unmixed 
with  fear;  his  lips  became  blue,  and  quivered; 
his  eyes  glared ;  for  a  moment  he  paused.  Should 
he  slay  his  accuser  and  escape  detection  by  a  sec- 
ond murder?  Should  he  flee?  or  should  he  stand 
trial  in  hope  that  the  evidence  of  one  man  would 
not  be  sufficient  to  convict  him,  and  in  the  further 
hope  that  his  money  would  have  due  influence 
with  the  jury?     He  seemed,  however,  to  prefer 


THE   WATCH-KEY.  125 

to  defy  the  law,  and  turning  on  his  visitor,  storm- 
ed in  wrath,  "John  Ernest,  I  despise  your  threats, 
I  spurn  your  charges,  I  deny  your  slanderous  tes- 
timony ;  and,  furthermore,  I  command  you  to  leave 
this  house  on  pain  of  death,  and  never  to  set  your 
foot  inside  my  door  again." 

"Very  well,  sir;  but  the  day  may  come  when 
you  will  welcome  me  under  your  roof.  I  enter- 
tian  no  ill-will  towards  you.  I  wish  simply  to 
help  you;  for  the  situation  is  grave." 

"You  mean,  sir,  that  this  baseless  slander  is 
grave." 

"Col.  James,"  said  Ernest  seriousy,  taking 
something  from  his  vest  pocket — "I  hold  in  my 
hand  a  watch-key  bearing  your  initials.  This  key 
was  found  where,  with  my  own  eyes,  I  saw  you 
on  the  night  of  the  trolley  wreck.  The  jeweler 
has  identified  the  key,  bearing  testimony  that  he 
engraved  it  for  you  eighteen  months  ago.  Is  that 
slander,  Colonel?" 

The  brewer  was  dazed;  he  stood  staring  at  his 
accuser ;  his  eyes  flashed  a  strange  fire ;  his  brows 
contracted;  his  color  came  and  went;  a  cyclone 
of  passion  was  brewing.  His  detection  was  now 
complete,  and  his  ruin  inevitable.  The  house  that 
is  built  on  the  sand  must  fall;  fortunes  erected 
on  fraud  must  crumble ;  the  social  standing  of  his 
family  is  clouded — and  life  itself  is  forfeited  to 
the  law.     Final  action  must  be  taken ;  delay  is 


126  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

fatal.  The  storms  rage  within;  the  pent-up  fires 
burn ;  desperation  takes  voice. 

"John  Ernest,  I  demand  that  key."  And  the 
air  quivered. 

"Colonel,  I  have  no  right  to  yield  this  key.  It 
is  the  property  of  the  court." 

"Key  or  life,  you  ghost  of  a  dog!" 

As  Mr.  Ernest  turned  to  leave,  the  infuriated 
brewer  sprang  at  him  with  uplifted  fist,  and 
struck  a  blow  that  grazed  the  preacher's  head. 
Ernest,  in  full  vigor  of  splendid  manhood,  clasped 
his  antagonist  in  his  arms,  holding  him  as  in  a 
vice  of  flesh.  The  Colonel  squirmed,  and  raved, 
and  swore;  but  he  was  as  helpless  as  a  babe  in 
its  mother's  grip.  The  enraged  man,  seeing  he 
had  no  further  redress,  burst  into  tears  and  cried 
like  a  child. 

"Col.  James,"  said  Ernest  in  utmost  tenderness, 
still  holding  him  to  his  bosom,  "be  a  man;  make 
all  possible  amends,  and  tell  the  public  the  whole 
sad  story.  Make  a  clean  breast  of  it.  Confess, 
and  be  a  man." 

Saying  this,  he  relaxed  his  grasp,  gliding  out 
into  the  darkness,  and  hastened  to  the  church, 
relieved  now  that  he  had  done  all  in  his  power  to 
serve  a  man  that  had  tried  to  kill  him.  He  was 
conscious  that  he  had  never  discharged  an  office 
so  painful  and  humiliating  before;  yet  he  was 
also  conscious  that  never  in  his  ministry  had  he 


THE   WATCH-KEY.  127 

felt  an  intenser  glow  of  the  Saviour's  love  than 
at  this  moment.  When  he  drew  near  the  church, 
he  found  an  immense  congregation  awaiting  him. 
He  wiped  the  clotted  blood  from  his  face  and 
rudely  smoothed  his  tangled  hair  with  his  fingers 
before  entering  the  pulpit. 

The  pastor  preached  with  unwonted  power.  All 
hearts  were  moved  that  could  be  moved  by  the 
force  of  truth.  God  seemed  to  visit  his  people  in 
a  sweetly  marvelous  way.  The  sermon  was  just 
closing,  when  Col.  James,  under  some  overmaster- 
ing emotion,  rushed  into  the  church ;  and,  making 
directly  for  the  pulpit,  threw  his  arms  around  the 
minister  and  wept  great  hot  tears.  He  sobbed 
out,  "You  have  taught  me  what  it  is  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian. My  religion  has  been  but  pretence  and  hy- 
pocrisy. I  was  once  convicted  of  sin;  but  I  sat 
under  a  Christless  Gospel,  and  the  conviction  was 
stifled.  I  here  publicly  confess  that  I  aimed  at 
your  life,  because  I  knew  you  would  ruin  my  busi- 
ness if  you  came  to  Woodville.  I  was  under  the 
influence  of  strong  drink  when  I  placed  dynamite 
on  the  track.  The  liquor  men  put  me  forward  to 
do  their  work  when  I  was,  for  the  time  being, 
really  crazy.  Mr.  Ernest,  forgive  me  and  pray 
for  me."  And  a  thousand  heads  were  bowed  in 
prayer. 

When  a  chorus  of  loud  "aniens"  had  endorsed 
the  pastor's  petition  for  God's  richest  pardon,  Col. 


128  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

James  gave  himself  into  the  hands  of  an  officer 
who  was  present. 

That  night  John  Ernest  spent  in  a  cell  at  the 
jail,  in  counsel  and  prayer. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  TIE  THAT  BINDS. 

John  Ernest's  preaching  was  taking  effect  in 
unexpected  places  and  in  unexpected  ways.  Wood- 
ville  witnessed  for  the  first  time  in  its  history 
Christianity  applied  to  social  conditions,  so  as  to 
produce,  in  many  instances,  radical  changes.  Men 
were  taught  new  modes  of  thought;  trained  to 
discriminate,  forced  to  take  sides.  The  issues 
were  so  clearly  defined  and  involved  such  funda- 
mental truths,  that  neutrality  was  impossible. 
One  might  love  John  Ernest,  another  might  hate 
him,  but  none  could  be  indifferent  to  him.  To  re- 
duce his  teachings  to  practice,  was  to  revolution- 
ize society,  and  persons  of  all  shades  of  opinion 
were  quick  to  recognize  this  fact.  The  pastor's 
sermons  were  felt  in  all  the  markets  of  the  city, 
and  were  discussed  in  every  shop  and  factory  in 
which  his  congregation  wrought.  He  held  that 
the  church  ought  to  control  public  sentiment,  or 
else  stand  as  a  perpetual  testimony  against  it.  All 
the  customs  of  a  community  ought  to  conform  to 
the  laws  of  God,  and  all  the  morals  of  the  people 
should  be  measured  by  the  Gospel  standard.     It 


130  THE   TIE   THAT   BINDS. 

was  difficult  for  many  members  of  Grand  Avenue 
Church  to  accept  this  new  conception  wf  duty, 
though  the  pastor  affirmed  that  it  was  two  thou- 
sand years  old. 

Mr.  Ernest  was  busy  in  the  preparation  of  an 
address  to  be  delivered  before  the  Reform  Lea- 
gue of  Woodville,  when  he  received  a  note  from 
Mrs.  Stuart,  the  banker's  wife,  requesting  him  to 
call  at  once.  The  Stuarts  were  millionaires,  liv- 
ing in  the  most  palatial  residence  in  the  West  End, 
and  leaders  of  society.  The  preacher  was  usher- 
ed into  a  splendid  parlor  whose  mirrored  walls 
would  have  done  honor  to  a  king.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Stuart  entered,  greeting  their  visitor  coldly. 

"Mr.  Ernest,"  said  the  banker,  "I  have  been 
a  member  of  Grand  Avenue  congregation  for 
twenty  years;  I  have  upheld  the  work  of  the 
church  and  the  minister,  but  I  feel  aggrieved  at 
some  recent  occurrences,  and  I  think  I  have  a  just 
complaint  against  the  pastor.  My  wife  has  been 
greatly  disturbed  by  a  remark  you  made  in  her 
presence  at  the  last  communion  service.  She  has 
always  been  respected  in  our  social  circles ;  but,  of 
late,  she  has  been  snubbed  by  the  most  influential 
members  of  Grand  Avenue  Church ;  and  your  un- 
timely and  unfortunate  remark  has  been  the 
source  of  all  the  trouble.  We,  therefore,  have 
sent  for  you  to  see  if  the  matter  cannot  be  clear- 
ed up." 


THE  TIE  THAT  BINDS.  131 


"Yes,"  added  Mrs.  Stuart,  "we  are  both  griev- 
ously offended.  I  think  your  remark  was  insult- 
ing and  unkind.  I  have  not  slept  for  several 
nights." 

The  sympathetic  pastor  felt  a  keen  pain  at  the 
thought  of  wounding  others;  so,  turning  to  the 
banker,  he  said,  "I  regret  that  I  have  caused  you 
the  slightest  distress;  and,  I  assure  you,  it  will 
give  me  the  very  greatest  pleasure  to  make  any 
amends  possible.  Please  be  kind  enough  to  repeat 
the  unhappy  remark  that  has  given  rise  to  the 
difficulty." 

"Well,  sir,  I  was  not  present,  but  Mrs.  Stuart 
understood  you  to  say  something  about  divorced 
persons  not  being  entitled  to  the  Lord's  Supper." 

"Unless  Scripturally  divorced,  I  said.  But,  my 
dear  sir,  what  has  that  to  do  with  you?" 

"Why,  of  course,  as  a  stranger  here,  you  may 
not  know  it,  but  we  have  both  been  divorced  from 
former  alliances,  on  what  we  consider  sufficient 
grounds,  and  our  present  union  is  a  remarriage." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,  Mr.  Stuart,  that  you  have 
dissolved  the  holy  tie  of  marriage,  thus  trampling 
under  your  feet  the  sanctity  of  the  home  and  the 
authority  of  God?" 

"But,  Mr.  Ernest,"  interrupted  the  heiress  of 
millions,  "please  consider  our  rank,  and  do  not 
use  such  very  offensive  terms.  You  should  re- 
member that  we  are  gentle  folk,  accustomed  to 


132  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

the  refinements  of  life.  Please  select  your  lan- 
guage." 

"Very  well,  madam ;  I  shall  select  the  language 
of  the  Son  of  God :  'Whosoever  shall  put  away  his 
wife,  and  marry  another,  committeth  adultery 
against  her.  And  if  a  woman  shall  put  away  her 
husband,  and  be  married  to  another,  she  commit- 
teth adultery.'  " 

And  there  was  silence. 

"But,  Mr.  Ernest,"  resumed  the  banker,  "that 
was  written  a  long  time  ago ;  and  modern  civiliza- 
tion requires  us  to  take  a  broader  view  of  this 
subject." 

"You  mean,  then,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  not  au- 
thority on  the  question  of  divorce.  This  being 
true,  you  have  discarded  him  as  a  divine  guide, 
and  are  not  his  followers." 

"Oh!  Mr.  Ernest,  can  you  mean  that  we  are 
not  Christians,  though  we  contribute  to  all  good 
objects,  and  have  been  members  of  the  church  for 
so  many  years?"  said  Mrs.  Stuart 

"Christians!  why,  you  astonish  me,  Mrs.  Stuart. 
The  idea  of  a  Christian  repudiating  the  authority 
of  Jesus  Christ  and  living  in  open  shame!" 

Stuart's  cheeks  burned  with  rage;  his  eyes 
flashed  fire;  his  frame  shook.  He  arose  from  his 
chair,  hesitated,  stammered,  and  in  a  cyclone  of 
wrath  commanded  the  herald  of  the  cross  to  leave 
his  house    forever.     But    Mrs.  Stuart    laid  her 


1 


■ 


j^V 


LL 


THE  TIE  THAT  BINDS.  135 

hand  on  the  banker's  arm,  saying  that  Mr.  Ernest 
must  stay  until  the  matter  was  settled.  "Let  me," 
said  she,  "talk  with  the  pastor.  Mr.  Ernest,  I 
have  been  spending  nights  in  agony,  since  you 
made  that  remark.  You  have  ostracized  us  from 
religious  society;  you  have  shut  us  out  from  the 
church ;  you  have  denied  us  a  Christian  character ; 
and  you  have  practically  said,  that  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  is  shut  upon  us.  Pray  tell  us,  then, 
what  hope  is  there  for  us  either  in  this  world  or 
the  next?" 

"None!"  said  Ernest;  and  there  was  silence 
again. 

At  length  the  silence  was  broken  by  an  outburst 
of  weeping.  Mrs.  Stuart  with  swollen  eyes,  gazed 
into  the  calm  face  of  John  Ernest,  whose  look 
seemed  so  tender,  whose  words  seemed  so  harsh. 
She  unconsciously  drew  up  her  chair  nearer  the 
man  of  God,  and  still  gazing  intently  into  his 
face,  she  asked  in  broken  accents,  "Mr.  Ernest, 
is  there  not  any  hope  for  us?" 

And  again  he  said,  "None." 

"But  if  we  repent,  Mr.  Ernest,  will  not  the 
Lord  be  gracious?" 

"I  never  knew  persons  in  your  circumstances 
to  repent,"  said  the  minister  kindly. 

"But  I  do  repent,  Mr.  Ernest.  I  confess  the 
wrong,  and  I  am  sorry  I  have  broken  the  law  of 
marriage." 


136  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

"That  is  not  repentance,"  urged  the  pastor. 
"Repentance  involves  turning  away  from  sin,  and 
that  is  a  phase  of  the  subject  I  fear  you  are  not 
prepared  for." 

"My  life  is  wretched  in  the  light  of  the  Bible 
as  you  preach  it,  Mr.  Ernest;  and  my  home  has 
become  a  prison,  and  my  existence  a  blank.  I 
pray  that  you  will  advise  me  what  to  do."  And  the 
rich  woman  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

John  Ernest's  sympathies  were  aroused,  his 
warm  heart  overflowing;  but,  as  he  was  in  a  del- 
icate situation,  requiring  the  utmost  fidelity  to 
the  Saviour's  law,  he  maintained  the  even  tenor 
of  his  speech.  He  thought  how  hard  it  is  to  be 
perfectly  faithful  in  the  Christian  ministry,  how 
difficult  not  to  be  swayed  by  affecting  circum- 
stances. A  burden  rested  on  his  very  soul.  He 
saw  clearly  what  his  sad  message  must  now  be; 
yet  he  was  embarrassed  as  to  the  best  method  of 
breaking  the  truth  to  his  erring  members.  He 
suggested  to  the  banker  that  perhaps  they  were 
weary  now,  and,  if  they  desired  it,  he  would  call 
again,  after  they  had  had  time  to  reflect  on  what 
had  already  been  discussed.  "No,"  said  Stuart; 
"I  know  that  my  wife  is  determined  to  have  the 
matter  out;  and  let's  finish  this  unhappy  confer- 
ence forever." 

"Then,"  said  Ernest,  and  he  choked — hot  tears 
rolled    down    his    cheeks — his    voice     trembled. 


THE  TIE  THAT  BINDS.  1*7 

"Then,"  repeated  the  minister,  "let  us  pray." 
Ernest  knelt  down ;  so  did  Mrs.  Stuart ;  the  bank- 
er merely  bowed  his  head.  The  prayer  was  tend- 
er, short,  pointed;  it  was  a  petition  for  forgive- 
ness for  the  sin  of  the  guilty  union,  for  light,  for 
help,  for  willingness  to  abide  by  the  will  of  God. 
The  preacher  said,  "Amen;"  and  a  female  voice 
sobbed,  "Amen." 

"Now,"  said  Ernest  in  a  low  tone,  "if  you  wish 
to  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  you  will  have  to 
leave  all,  and  follow  the  Lamb  whithersoever  he 
goeth.  His  word  is  your  law;  obedience,  the  con- 
dition of  eternal  life.  This  union  will  have  to  be 
dissolved,  this  marriage  declared  void,  this  home 
broken  up." 

Stuart  was  not  prepared  for  this,  and  shouted 
in  delirious  excitement,  that  he  would  die  first. 

Mrs.  Stuart  swooned  in  her  rocker,  gasping, 
"God  help  me !  God — ."  Her  eyes  closed,  her  lips 
quivered,  her  cheeks  were  pallid.  Ernest  felt  chill 
and  sick — oh,  the  agony  of  being  faithful,  the  cru- 
cifixion of  being  true!  After  some  moments  of 
painful  silence,  Mrs.  Stuart  regained  her  con- 
sciousness, and  a  degree  of  strength,  understand- 
ing what  Mr.  Ernest  meant  by  the  Christianity  of 
Christ.  She  had  been  a  member  of  Grand  Avenue 
Church  for  years,  and  yet,  never  realized  till  now 
that  she  was  a  criminal  in  the  sight  of  God.  Little 
did  she  expect  this  marvelous  revelation  of  her  in- 


138  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

most  soul,  when  that  morning  she  proudly  sum- 
moned John  Ernest  to  retract  his  far-reaching 
words;  and,  in  her  own  case,  she  found  verified 
that  deep  saying  of  Scripture,  "The  word  of  God 
is  quick,  and  powerful,  and  sharper  than  any  two- 
edged  sword,  piercing  even  to  the  dividing  asund- 
er of  soul  and  spirit,  and  of  the  joints  and  mar- 
row, and  is  a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  in- 
tents of  the  heart."  A  revolution  had  taken  place 
in  this  woman's  inner  life,  a  ray  of  heaven's  own 
light  had  shot  into  her  darkened  being,  and  for 
the  first  time  in  her  history,  she  believed.  For  a 
moment,  she  stood  before  the  minister  transfixed ; 
then  suddenly  breathing  deeply,  she  camly  said, 
"Mr.  Ernest,  I  will  follow,  I  will  follow  the 
Lamb." 

The  banker,  having  at  length  discovered  the 
radical  trend  of  the  pastor's  conversation,  awoke 
from  his  torpor;  and  after  threatening  the  min- 
ister with  the  law,  he  raged,  and  swore,  and,  in 
the  fury  of  his  wrath,  stamped  his  foot  on  the 
floor  and  banged  the  door  upon  the  preacher.  But 
a  soul  had  been  saved;  and  the  man  of  God  re- 
turned to  his  study. 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  a 
close  carriage  stopped  in  front  of  the  banker's 
residence.  Mrs.  Stuart  looked  for  the  last  time 
upon  those  mirrored  walls  and  that  fretted  ceil- 
ing, hesitating  to  take  the  step  that  was  now  in- 


THE  TIE  THAT  BINDS.  139 

evitable.  She  was  to  bid  farewell  to  fortune  and 
to  social  ties ;  she  was  to  forsake  houses  and  lands 
and  husband  and  friends,  and  pleasures,  and  lux- 
ury— all  that  she  had — for  the  Son  of  Man's  sake ; 
she  was  to  sink  into  obscurity  in  the  eyes  of  so- 
ciety, deflowered  and  ostracised — but  she  was  to 
inherit  eternal  life,  and  win  a  home  in  light.  Her 
cheeks  flushed,  her  lips  trembled,  her  eyes  filled 
with  burning  tears.  With  the  resolution  of  a  soul 
illuminated  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  she  approached 
Mr.  Stuart;  he  was  sitting  in  an  arm-chair,  his 
head  resting  heavily  on  his  hand;  he  did  not  ob- 
serve her.  With  forced  composure  she  said,  "Mr. 
Stuart!" 

The  banker  stood  and  faced  her;  then  passion- 
ately exclaiming,  "My  darling  wife!"  stretched 
forth  his  arms  to  press  her  to  his  bosom ;  but  she 
drew  back  and  said,  "Mr.  Stuart,  I  am  no  longer 
your  wife,  for  our  union  is  dissolved  in  obedience 
to  the  law  of  Christ."  And  taking  from  her  finger 
a  superb  solitaire  diamond,  which  she  placed  in 
Stuart's  hand,  she  added,  "I  return  to  you  this 
marriage  ring.     Good-bye!" 

With  a  ten  months'  babe  in  her  arms,  Mrs. 
Stuart  descended  those  marble  steps,  never  to  en- 
ter that  princely  mansion  again. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  REALISTIC  ART  GALLERY. 

No  institution  in  Woodville  was  attracting 
more  attention  than  the  Realistic  Art  Gallery.  It 
was  founded  by  Mr.  Stuart,  the  banker,  at  great 
expense,  and  was  designed  to  be  a  sort  of  modern- 
ized Grove  of  Daphne.  The  millionaire  was  a 
lover  of  the  fine  arts;  yet,  unfortunately,  his 
tastes,  as  in  the  case  of  so  many  artists,  were  not 
chaste;  for  he  admired  the  soiled  in  art  rather 
than  the  clean.  He  had  purchased  for  the  Gallery 
a  number  of  paintings  and  statues  that  were  offen- 
sive to  all  persons  whose  sensibilities  had  not  been 
perverted,  or,  as  Mr.  Ernest  said  in  his  evening 
sermon,  "The  specimens  introduced  do  not  appeal 
to  the  sublime  in  man,  but  to  the  slime;  not  to 
the  best  in  us,  but  to  the  beast  in  us."  The 
preacher  also  made  bold  to  declare  truths  that 
stirred  the  hearts  of  Grand  Avenue  saints,  say- 
ing: "Woodville  society  is  veneered,  the  form  of 
Christianity  in  its  churches  is  too  weak  a  type  to 
cope  with  the  ever  increasing  strength  and  opposi- 
tion of  the  world.  The  church  has  fairly  ceased 
to  mold  the  beliefs  of  mankind.     The  saloon  has 


THE   REALISTIC   ART   GALLERY.  141 

more  influence  in  elections  than  the  sanctuary ; 
the  police,  more  than  the  preachers ;  and  the  news- 
papers more  than  the  Bible.  The  society  of  the 
city  is  still  pagan ;  besotted  men  and  nude  women 
parade  our  streets;  brownstone  palaces  are  but 
temples  of  gambling;  magnificent  parks  are 
scenes  of  nightly  revels;  while  splendid  club- 
houses witness  nameless  orgies  that  would  cause 
a  cannibal  to  blush.  And  if  I  may  be  more  spe- 
cific, there  is  not  a  blacker  spot  in  all  heathen- 
dom that  the  Realistic  Art  Gallery,  nor  is  there 
among  any  benighted  people  of  the  globe  a  more 
shameless  crime  than  is  there  committed  this  Sab- 
bath night  in  the  name  of  religion.  Sodom  was 
vile,  Capernaum  worse,  but  Woodville  worst." 

John  Ernest  knew  not  the  full  force  of  his 
words.  He  had  taught  the  flock  high  ideals,  had 
created  lofty  sentiments,  and  had  awakened 
Christly  aspirations.  Under  the  spell  of  his  phil- 
ippic against  the  Art  Gallery,  the  major  part  of 
the  congregation  remained  after  service  to  dis- 
cuss ways  and  means  of  relieving  the  community 
of  this  cancer  upon  its  civilization. 

Just  as  their  deliberations  were  waxing  warm- 
est, a  night-watchman  rushed  into  the  church, 
inquiring  for  Mr.  Ernest.  His  hair  was  tousled, 
his  manner  excited,  and  his  speech  confused.  He 
reported  that  one  of  the  city's  roughs  had  com- 
mitted an  assault  upon  a  well-known  society  belle. 


142 


THE   BRJDE'S   RETURN. 


who  had  just  been  posing  at  the  Realistic  Art 
Gallery  as  Venus.  A  prize  had  been  offered  by 
Mr.  Stuart  to  the  young  lady,  who,  at  the  close 
of  the  evening  sacred  concert,  should  expose  the 
"most  perfect  bust."  A  score  of  lasses  contended 
for  the  prize,  vying  with  one  another  in  the  art 
of  dressing  with  fewest  materials.  The  damsel 
who  was  declared  the  goddess  of  beauty,  and  the 
possessor  of  the  most  exquisite  "human  form  di- 
vine," was  the  occasion  of  the  crime,  having  awak- 
ened sleeping  amours  in  the  bosom  of  a  disciple 
of  realism.  The  sinning  youth  had  been  cap- 
tured by  the  officers  of  the  law,  who  in  turn  had 
been  overpowered  by  an  angry  mob.  A  lynching 
was  imminent;  and  the  watchman  knew  no  one 
who  could  have  any  influence  with  the  rabble, 
save  Mr.  Ernest.  Then  the  custodian  of  the 
city's  weal  disappeared,  followed  by  the  preacher 
and  the  male  portion  of  the  congregation.  Happily, 
the  minister  met  the  infuriated  mob,  as  it  was 
dragging  its  victim  to  an  electric-light  pole  for 
execution.  Standing  on  a  stepping  stone  he  easily 
arrested  the  attention  of  the  scowling  crowd. 

"Fellow  citizens,"  said  he,  reaching  forth  his 
hand  to  still  the  restless  throng,  "let  me  speak  a 
few  words  to  you  before  you  hang  this  man." 

"Who  in  thunder  is  that  fellow?"  shouted  a 
dozen  voices. 

"That's  preacher  John  Ernest,"  yelled  others. 


THE  REALISTIC  ART  GALLERY.  143 

"Well,  a  man  like  him  can  speak  at  any  time. 
Tell  us  about  it,  parson." 

"Be  not  hasty  to  avenge  the  great  wrong  the 
community  has  suffered;  a  rash  deed  will  react. 
As  good  citizens,  you  cannot  take  the  law  into 
your  own  hands;  but  must  entrust  your  griev- 
ances to  the  courts.  Your  cause  is  just;  so  should 
your  methods  be." 

"But  our  courts  are  corrupt,"  said  one. 

"Then  hang  the  judges,  if  any  lynching  must 
be  done." 

"The  trouble  is  with  the  juries;  they  can  be 
bribed,"  added  another. 

"Then  hang  the  jurors,"  insisted  Ernest. 

"It's  the  lawyers  that  clear  the  guilty,  pack  the 
juries,  and  render  the  whole  judicial  system  a 
farce,"  argued  a  third. 

"Then  hang  the  lawyers." 

"We'll  hang  them  next  time,  parson;  this  fel- 
low must  swing  to-night.  Better  put  up  your  best 
pra'r  fur  'im ;  fur  if  anybody  kin  git  *im  through 
the  gates,  you  kin." 

"No;  you  can't  hang  this  man;  no  doubt,  he 
deserves  it,  but  he  must  have  a  fair  trial.  Hand 
him  over  to  the  authorities  and  hang  the  attorney 
that  tries  to  thwart  the  ends  of  justice." 

"Sump'n  in  that!"  exclaimed  a  man  in  the 
crowd. 

Others  shouted,  "Lynch  him !  lynch  him !" 


144  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Ernest,  "it  is  a  privilege 
due  the  prisoner  that  he  be  allowed  to  make  his 
own  statement  of  the  crime.  Let  him  speak  for 
himself." 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen:"  began  the  victim. 

"Thar  ain't  no  ladies  here,  you  fool,"  observed 
a  bystander. 

"An'  I'm  er  feard  thar  ain't  no  gentlemen," 
added  a  wit  in  an  undertone. 

"I  dropped  in,"  continued  the  criminal,  "at  the 
Realistic  Art  Gallery  to  see  them  women  what 
wuz  advertised  in  the  papers  to  play  the  goddess. 
So,  after  a  while,  a  dozen  or  so  goddesses  half 
naked,  if  not  mo',  pranced  about  on  the  platform 
actin'  Venus.  Then,  last  of  all,  came  another 
goddess,  very  handsome,  and  her  body  exposed. 
At  once  my  lower  nature  wuz  aroused ;  I  took  the 
goddess  to  be  one  of  the  'girls,'  and  thought  she 
would  not  object  to  receiving  the  prayers  of  a 
mortal  like  me.  So  I  followed  her  through  the 
streets  into  the  suburbs  of  the  city,  until  she 
was  passing  a  little  thicket  of  pine-trees,  and 
there  I  sought  to  pay  my  worship  to  Venus.  Gen- 
tlemen, a  naked  goddess  will  ruin  a  town;  an' 
clothes  will  protect  a  woman  more'n  pistols." 

"Now,  fellow  citizens,"  said  Mr.  Ernest,  "any 
woman  that  exposes  her  person  to  the  public,  is 
a  danger  to  the  morals  of  the  community.  A  bad 
woman  is  as  bad  as  a  bad  man ;  and  if  this  man 


THE  REALISTIC  ART  GALLERY.  145 

is  to  be  killed,  you  should  seize  the  brazen  woman 
that  shamelessly  instigated  the  crime,  and  let 
them  both  hang  from  the  same  limb." 

"That's  right— hit  em'  agin!"  And  the  welkin 
rang  with  cheers. 

"But  don't  hang  either,"  resumed  the  minister ; 
simply  swear  out  warrants  against  both  parties, 
and  see  that  an  honest  jury  and  a  competent  judge 
determine  the  merits  of  the  case." 

The  fierce  multitude,  after  some  hesitation  and 
difference  of  opinion,  resolved  to  take  Mr.  Ern- 
est's advice. 

To  the  consternation  of  Woodville,  one  of  her 
reigning  belles  was  tried  for  wantonness,  and 
fined  five  hundred  dollars.  The  libertine,  on  a 
charge  of  assault,  was  sentenced,  in  view  of  miti- 
gating circumstances,  to  five  years'  hard  work  in 
the  penitentiary. 

Meantime  the  ladies  of  the  church  had  not  been 
idle.  After  the  night-watchman  had  narrated  the 
harrowing  story  of  the  sacred  concert  with  its 
tragic  results,  and  the  men  had  rushed  forth  to 
prevent  a  lynching,  the  good  women  of  Grand 
Avenue  formed  in  a  body,  and  marched  in  solemn 
defile  to  the  Realistic  Art  Gallery,  the  immediate 
cause  of  all  the  shame  and  crime  of  that  holy  Sab- 
bath night.  Having  awaked  the  janitor,  they 
effected  an  entrance  into  that  temple  of  malodor- 
ous fame;  and  under  the  flash  of  electric  lights, 


146  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

they  beheld  a  civilized  Sodom.  Many  of  them 
never  knew  that  in  the  very  center  of  Woodville 
there  was  such  a  hotbed  of  vice — that  under  the 
shadows  of  a  church  of  Christ  there  was  a  syna- 
gogue of  Satan.  Here  stood  in  captivating  splen- 
dor the  enemy  of  all  virtue  and  the  menace  of 
every  home.  Here  was  hell  in  stone  and  wax 
and  paint.  These  daughters  of  God  for  a  moment 
remained  silent;  they  gazed  upon  nude  pictures, 
mainly  of  their  own  sex,  they  beheld  statues  in 
bronze,  marble,  stone  and  wax,  displaying  the 
shame  of  both  sexes.  A  wave  of  mingled  sorrow 
and  indignation  swept  through  their  troubled 
minds,  as  with  bowed  head  they  smote  upon  their 
breasts  and  wept. 

At  length,  Mrs.  Charles  Kent  broke  the  silence 
by  saying,  "Ladies,  this  place  has  to-night 
been  the  scene  of  shame  and  the  cause  of  crime. 
As  you  look  upon  these  splendid  creations  of  art, 
you  witness  womanhood  degraded.  These  hideous 
objects  are  the  property  of  Mr.  Stuart;  but,  bear 
in  mind,  virtue  and  modesty  are  the  property  of 
women.  If  Mr.  Stuart  can  destroy  the  character 
of  woman,  her  highest  possession,  is  it  a  crime  to 
demolish  the  instruments  he  uses  to  accomplish 
his  fiendish  purpose?" 

"Moreover,"  answered  Mrs.  John  Morgan,  "our 
pastor  said  recently  that  nothing  is  of  value  to 
a  community  that  degrades  it.     It  is  true,  Mr. 


THE  REALISTIC  ART  GALLERY.  147 

Stuart  defended  his  exhibits  on  the  ground  that 
they  were  simply  realistic,  'true  to  nature's  heart/ 
as  he  expressed  it.  Besides,  he  claimed  that  the 
nude  paintings  and  sculptured  busts  were  not 
more  exposed  than  the  ladies  of  Woodville  often 
were  in  their  ball  costumes ;  but  we  all  know  that 
one  disgrace  does  not  justify  another." 

Moved  by  these  ringing  words,  Corinne  How- 
ard seized  some  pigment  tubes  that  had  been  de- 
posited in  the  art  studio  by  a  class  of  girls  who 
received  daily  lessons  from  a  realistic  professor. 
The  tubes  were  vigorously  applied  to  the  nude 
pictures  by  these  sober  dames,  who  in  one  brief 
half  hour  destroyed  the  masterpieces  of  the  insti- 
tution by  covering  forever  their  shame  with  a 
daub  of  paint.  At  the  same  time,  Mrs.  Castle- 
berry,  with  a  contingent  of  kindred  spirits,  set  to 
work  to  demolish  the  indecent  statues  in  bronze, 
marble  and  wax,  by  pushing  them  from  their  ped- 
estals with  a  mighty  crash,  which  left  the  Art 
Gallery  a  desolation  of  bacchanalian  memories. 

The  iconoclasts  had  scarcely  quit  the  building, 
when  the  chief  of  police  stood  amid  the  magnifi- 
cent wreck,  recalling  the  fact  that  these  noble 
women  had  petitioned  both  the  legislature  and  the 
town  aldermen  to  remove  the  objectionable  fea- 
tures from  the  Art  Gallery,  on  the  ground  that 
they  degraded  womanhood  and  fostered  vice,  yet 
without  redress.    He  further  recognized  the  truth, 


148  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

made  now  impressive,  that  the  authorities  had 
winked  at  wickedness  in  high  places,  and  to  arrest 
these  female  crusaders  would  involve  Woodrille 
in  a  civil  war.  So,  realizing  that  discretion  is 
the  better  part  of  valor,  the  officer,  grasping  in 
one  sweep  of  his  astonished  vision  the  costly 
ruins  of  the  temple  of  Bacchus,  remarked  with 
the  penetration  of  a  philosopher:  "What  fools 
these  women  be !" 


CHAPTER  XV. 

SONGS  IN  THE  NIGHT. 

After  the  prayer  service,  Mr.  Ernest  calleil  on  a 
poor  family  that  had  been  thrown  out  of  employ- 
ment by  the  suspension  of  a  factory.  It  was  in 
the  foreign  section  of  the  town,  and  the  family 
was  of  Hungarian  stock.  The  streets  were  nar- 
row and  dark  and  filthy.  At  every  corner  there 
was  either  a  gambling  dive  or  a  saloon,  often 
both  united  in  one.  Rowdies  of  both  sexes  swag- 
gered along  the  alleys;  drunken  carousals  were 
heard  on  every  block;  paganism  reigned  in  almost 
every  home.  Christianity  had  made  no  percep- 
tible impression  on  this  dark  quarter.  Jehovah 
was  here  practically  an  unknown  God.  The 
preacher  could  not  help  betraying  emotion,  and 
pausing  in  the  midst  of  a  besotted,  filthy,  criminal 
and  Christless  humanity,  he  bared  his  head,  and 
turning  his  eyes  upon  the  stars,  he  spoke  with 
God.  He  gave  some  money  to  the  destitute  Hun- 
garians, thus  making  one  wretched,  despairing 
family  happy;  but  "what  was  that  among  so 
many?"  He  did  not  know  it — and  often  we  do 
not  know  the  good  we  do — but  Gcd  had  already 


150  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

made  him  the  means  of  planting  the  Gospel  in 
this  benighted  district.  He  walked  on  half  a 
block  when  he  heard  a  voice  that  was  strangely 
sweet.  He  stopped  again.  Some  one  was  sing- 
ing in  the  attic  of  a  tenement  house,  it  seemed — 
so  faint  were  the  notes — so  far  away.  He  placed 
his  hand  to  his  ear  as  if  to  catch  but  a  word  from 
the  song.  It  was  a  hymn — "Rock  of  Ages" — there 
was  a  fascination  about  the  voice  he  could  not 
resist.  Who,  thought  he,  can  be  singing  a  hymn 
in  this  sink  of  iniquity?  Can  it  be  the  Rock  of 
Ages  himself,  descended  from  the  sky  to  do  what 
Christians  have  so  long  refused  to  do?  Can  it  be 
some  soul,  lately  born  to  God,  giving  expression 
to  its  budding  faith  ?  Can  it  be  some  humble  mis- 
sionary seeking  to  save  some  lost  sinner  In  this 
godless  tenement  house?  How  his  own  soul 
burned  to  speak  just  one  word  for  Christ  before 
leaving  that  awful  spot!  Just  as  he  was  reflect- 
ing, praying  the  Father  to  open  a  door  in  that 
section  to  him,  a  rough  young  fellow  stopped  near 
him,  saying,  "Hello,  cap'n,  is  you  er  goin'  up  to 
hear  that  singin'?" 

"What  singing?"  asked  Ernest. 

"Why,  thar's  a  woman  up  here  what  kin  squall 
like  er  angel.  Jes  foller  me,  an'  I'll  take  you  up 
thar.    They  likes  folks  to  come  to  the  singin'." 

Ernest  followed  up  a  labyrinth  of  stairs,  smil- 
ing as  he  conceived  an  angel  squalling.   The  notes 


SONGS   IN   THE    NIGHT.  151 

grew  more  distinct  as  he  wound  his  way  upward. 
This  mistress  of  song,  whoever  she  was,  was 
now  ringing  out  the  last  stanza  of  "Rock  of 
Ages."  He  pulled  his  hat  down  over  his  eyes, 
turned  up  his  coat  collar,  and  on  entering  the 
attic,  took  a  seat  some  distance  from  the  tallow 
candle  which  furnished  the  light.  He  was  taken 
for  a  street  loafer,  who  had  come  from  curiosity 
to  hear  the  singing,  which  had  begun  to  attract 
some  attention  on  the  block  on  which  the  flats 
were  located.  A  woman  was  standing  near  the 
attic  window,  dressed  in  black,  with  a  veil  cover- 
ing half  her  face.  She  seemed  to  be  oblivious  of 
the  presence  of  her  auditors.    She  was  repeating : 

"When  mine  eyelids  close  in  death," — her  face 
turned  towards  heaven — her  eyes  shut.    Then: 

"When  I  rise  to  worlds  unknown," — her  face 
radiant  with  joy. 

"See  thee  on  thy  judgment  throne," — she 
frowned,  then  smiled.  Then,  with  all  the  rich- 
ness of  a  cultured  voice,  and  all  the  pathos  of  a 
chastened  soul,  she  sang: 

"Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee." 

And  for  a  moment  she  was  silent,  as  if  hid  in  God. 

At  length  she  told  the  story  of  her  conversion, 

stating  that  she  had  lived  in  luxury ;  that  she  had 


152  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

preferred  sin  to  Christ;  but  by  God's  grace  she 
had  been  led  to  understand  the  Saviour's  will,  and 
had  abandoned  all  for  him,  having  but  one  desire 
— and  that — the  saving  of  the  lost. 

Then  John  Ernest  knew  that  it  was  Mrs. 
Stuart. 

The  dark,  dingy  little  attic  was  nearly  full  of 
persons,  now  and  then  some  outcast  coming  in 
to  take  a  vacant  seat.  The  preacher  had  never 
seen  a  harder-looking  set  of  people.  In  body,  they 
resembled  the  lower  animals;  in  mind,  they  were 
"earthly,  sensual,  devilish."  Ignorance  reigned  in 
undisputed  sovereignty,  heathen  superstition 
dwarfed  the  lives  of  the  people,  while  all  the  fear- 
ful elements  of  blackest  anarchy  surged  in  the 
undercurrents  of  their  thought.  The  scene  was 
weird;  the  prospect  poor;  the  mark  of  the  beast 
unmistakable.  Ernest  shuddered  and  prayed. 
His  heart  ached  as  he  thought  of  the  Christless 
throngs  of  purgatory.  No  upholstered  furniture 
was  here,  but  only  boxes  and  barrels  and  a  few 
benches  rudely  made  by  laying  undressed  planks 
on  wood-horses  borrowed  from  a  carpenter's 
shop.  The  motley  crowd,  most  of  it  with  patched 
clothing  and  unkempt  hair,  was  in  keeping  with 
the  furniture.  The  solitary  dirty  tallow  candle  was 
fixed  in  the  mouth  of  a  beer  bottle,  which  stood  on 
a  shelf.  As  John  Ernest  looked  upon  the  strange 
folk  who  had  left  haunts  of  vice,  homes  of  poverty 


SONGS    IN   THE    NIGHT.  15S 

and  suffering ;  sinning,  Christless  humanity,  swept 
into  silence  and  enthusiasm  by  the  power  of  con- 
secrated song,  he  wondered  that  so  many  Chris- 
tians, though  possessing  the  gift  of  melody,  use 
their  power  to  so  little  purpose ;  and  he  could  but 
quake  when  he  thought  of  splendid  churches 
whose  congregations  are  wickedly  dumb  when 
the  name  of  God  is  praised. 

When  Mrs.  Stuart,  whom  we  shall  continue  to 
know,  for  the  sake  of  convenience,  by  that  name, 
closed  the  hymn-book,  that  audience  of  social  out- 
casts was  leaning  forward,  mouths  open,  eyes 
staring,  in  the  awful  stillness  of  death.  She  was 
singing  nothing  new,  only  the  hymns  of  Jesus 
and  his  love — hymns  all  have  heard  from  child- 
hood— but  the  secret  lay  in  the  fact  that  the  voice 
was  but  speaking  the  language  of  a  heart  broken 
on  the  altar  of  faith.  She  was  exercising  power 
no  one  knew  she  had.  Her  magnificent  voice 
hitherto  had  charmed  social  gatherings  in  Grand 
Avenue  Church,  but  only  as  an  entertainment; 
now  that  mighty  instrument  of  proclaiming  the 
Gospel  was  breaking  the  chains  that  bound  un- 
believing souls.  A  frivolous,  worldly,  sinful  wo- 
man of  fashion  and  wealth,  had  for  Christ's  sake 
become  poor,  had  surrendered  all  that  the  world 
holds  dear;  and  by  divine  grace  had  been  trans- 
formed into  a  slum  missionary. 

Mrs.   Stuart  said  she  had  been  led   into  this 


*54  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

work  in  a  very  strange  way.  Her  pastor  had  pre- 
sented the  religion  of  Jesus  in  a  light  she  had 
never  seen.  He  pointed  out  that  our  duty  to 
Christ  is  first,  and  that,  if  necessary,  we  must 
leave  all,  even  home  and  friends,  to  follow  him. 
He  showed  me  that  sin  is  death,  that  duty  is 
life.  "My  heart  is  dead,"  said  she,  "except  to 
Christ;  I  have  but  one  desire,  the  salvation  of 
the  lost."  Then,  lifting  up  one  hand,  as  if  point- 
ing to  the  throne,  she  pleaded,  her  face  suffused 
with  tears,  "O  sinning  men  and  women,  boys  and 
girls,  will  you  let  Jesus  save  you  now?  Think  of 
his  love,  the  blood  he  shed  for  lost  ones  like  you ; 
look  up  yonder!"  And  as  one  man,  that  melted 
throng  of  sin  and  shame  turned  their  eyes  up- 
ward. "Yonder  is  Jesus,  reaching  out  his  hand 
to  take  your  burdens,  saying  to  each  troubled  and 
sinning  soul,  'Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor 
and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.'  Is 
there  one  here  who  will  leave  all  and  follow 
Jesus?"  She  paused,  while  a  strange  solemnity 
rested  on  even  the  most  callous  hearts.  Jesus  had 
come  into  the  attic,  fulfilling  his  promise,  that 
where  two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  his 
name,  there  will  he  be  in  the  midst  of  them.  A 
child  issued  from  the  back  of  the  audience — a 
little  oldish,  tallow-faced  girl,  with  Jewish  fea- 
tures. Drawing  her  faded  shawl  about  her  thin 
body,  she  stood  up  to  bear  testimony  to  the  Sav- 


SONGS   IN   THE   NIGHT.  155 

iour's  love.  She  said  in  a  low,  but  distinct  voice: 
"A  few  months  ago,  my  parents,  who  are  Hebrew 
people,  got  to  quarrelling  one  Sunday  night  about 
being  poor,  and  having  so  many  children  that  they 
could  not  take  care  of  them;  so  they  told  me,  as 
I  was  weakly  and  couldn't  work,  to  leave  home 
and  do  the  best  I  could.  They  told  me  I  had  better 
go  and  get  into  a  home ;  for  I  never  would  be  any 
account  to  earn  a  living.  I  lay  awake  and  cried 
all  night,  till  my  father  told  me  it  was  time  to  be 
going.  The  night  seemed  so  dark.  My  oldest 
brother  took  my  bundle  to  the  trolley  for  me  and 
said,  if  he  ever  got  able,  he  would  come  and  take 
me  from  the  orphanage,  and  give  me  a  place.  I 
had  been  on  the  car  but  a  little  while,  when  that 
terrible  accident  took  place,  and  I  was  nearly  kill- 
ed. A  gentleman  on  the  car  had  told  me  some- 
thing about  Jesus,  and  after  the  accident,  he  took 
me  to  the  City  Hospital,  where  I  was  given  a  New 
Testament,  which  told  me  all  about  Jesus.  My 
mother  had  taught  me  a  little  about  Moses,  but 
nothing  about  Jesus.  As  I  read  this  new  book,  a 
great  change  came  over  me.  Somehow,  whenever 
I  read  a  chapter  in  the  book,  I  thought  about  the 
kind  gentleman  who  saved  me,  and  the  way  he 
talked,  I  felt  the  book  must  have  made  him  good. 
And  I  thought  I  would  give  anything  if  I  could  be 
good.  And  I  have  said  my  prayers  ever  since. 
And  just  now  when  this    lady  said  Jesus   was 


156  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

reaching  down  to  take  our  burdens,  I  gave  him 
mine,  and  I  haven't  any  more  burden  now." 

The  plaintive  story  of  the  Jewish  girl  had  done 
its  work;  and  older  hearts  were  touched  by  her 
simple  testimony.  But  none  was  moved  more 
than  John  Ernest.  His  hat  still  covered  his  face 
partially,  and  his  coat  collar  was  standing.  This 
did  not  excite  comment,  since  most  of  the  men  did 
not  remove  their  head-wear  Mrs.  Stuart,  not 
recognizing  him,  but  perceiving  his  emotion,  ap- 
proached him,  asking,  "Don't  you  think  you  ought 
to  be  a  Christian?" 

"Yes,"  said  Ernest. 

"Are  you  willing  to  accept  Jesus  as  your  Sav- 
iour?" 

"Yes." 

"Have  you  repented,  you  think?" 

"Yes." 

"Are  you  willing  to  give  up  all  your  sins?" 

"Yes,"  said  Ernest. 

"Will  you  give  us  a  testimony  for  Jesus  now." 

Ernest  went  forward,  taking  off  his  hat  and  ad- 
justing his  collar.  He  said,  "It  is  a  pleasure  to 
be  here,  and  to  see  the  power  of  the  Lord's  grace. 
This  good  woman  has  asked  me  to  give  my  testi- 
mony to  God's  ability  to  help  men.  I  cannot  do 
better  than  to  relate  the  experience  of  a  man  I 
know.  It  was  Si  Jones.  Si  lived  in  the  slums 
of  a  certain  town,  tried  to  poison  his  mother  when 


SONGS   IN   THE    NIGHT.  157 

he  was  twelve,  shot  three  men  in  drunken  broils 
later  in  life,  was  convicted  of  half  a  dozen  rob- 
beries, wore  numerous  scars  he  had  received  in 
street  fights,  talked  in  oaths,  and  acted  in  lies. 
He  had  been  a  jailbird  from  a  lad,  and  at  length 
was  sentenced  to  be  hanged  for  a  great  crime.  I 
visited  the  man  in  prison.  He  was  so  vicious  that 
he  was  chained  in  an  arm-chair  to  restrain  him 
from  violence  in  the  jail.  When  I  first  spoke  to 
him,  he  cursed  me,  and  raved  like  a  maniac.  He 
had  never  been  in  a  house  of  worship,  hence  knew 
practically  nothing  of  Christ.  I  said  one  day,  'Si 
Jones,  would  you  like  to  go  to  heaven?'  Then, 
glaring  at  me  more  like  a  demon  than  a  man,  he 
mumbled,  'Stranger,  don't  try  that  stuff  on  me. 
I've  got  to  die,  and  I  don't  want  any  foolishness.' 
Said  I,  "Si,  where  are  you  going  when  you  die?" 
He  rattled  his  chains  and  frowned.  Again  I  ask- 
ed, 'Si,  where  are  you  going?'  He  looked  wild, 
and  staring  at  me  replied,  'Stranger,  there  ain't 
but  one  place  for  a  feller  like  me  to  go.'  'But  Si, 
suppose  God  should  come  into  this  prison,  and 
say,  'Si  Jones,  if  you  believe,  I'll  take  you  to 
heaven;  what  would  you  do?'  'Let  him  say  it, 
first,'  said  Mr.  Jones,  listlessly.  I  drew  a  Testa- 
ment from  my  pocket  and  read  the  story  of  the 
Philippian  jailer;  and  when  I  came  to  Paul's  an- 
swer to  the  prison-keeper  and  read  slowly,  'Be- 
lieve in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  thou  shalt    be 


158  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

saved,'  he  raised  his  head  and  asked,  'Did  God 
mean  that  ?'  'Oh,  yes ;'  said  I ;  'and  he  means  that 
if  you  now  trust  Jesus;  give  your  heart  fully  to 
him;  and  confess  him  right  here  in  this  cell,  you 
will  be  at  once  saved.'  The  criminal  seemed  to  be 
thinking ;  compressed  his  lips ;  and  after  a  silence 
of  some  moments,  said,  'I  believe!'  and  the  bad 
man  shook  like  an  aspen  leaf.  By  the  aid  of  some 
influential  men,  I  succeeded  in  getting  Jones'  sen- 
tence commuted  to  a  term  in  the  penitentiary.  In 
six  weeks,  Si  Jones  had  read  the  Testament 
through,  and  with  the  knowledge  thus  gained,  had 
been  instrumental  in  saving  eleven  of  his  fellow- 
convicts.  His  term  was  shortened  because  of  his 
excellent  conduct,  and  upon  his  return  home,  he 
became  a  kind  husband  and  father,  and  one  of 
the  best  mission  workers  I  ever  knew." 

A  voice  here  interrupted  the  speaker:  "Say, 
mister,  I  knowed  Si  Jones.    Is  he  livin'  yit?" 

"Yes,"  said  Ernest. 

"Well,  I  knowed  him.  And  I  was  one  of  the 
boys  he  read  that  Scriptur  to.  And  if  you  ain't 
ashamed  of  sich  cases  as  Si  Jones,  may  be,  you 
won't  be  ashamed  of  me.     Will  you,  cap'n?" 

"No,"  said  Ernest.    "I  love  men  like  you." 

"And  stranger,"  said  the  lank,  rough,  ill-clad 
man,  a  fair  specimen  of  the  slums  of  Woodville, 
"somehow,  I  likes  you  too.  So  you  say  religion 
made  a  man  of  Si  Jones,  that  cussin'  Si  Jones?" 


SONGS   IN   THE    NIGHT.  159 

"Yes ;  religion  will  make  a  man  of  any  man  that 
has  it." 

"Well,  do  you  think  it  could  do  any  thing  for  a 
feller  that  ain't  got  no  home,  and  no  money,  and 
no  credit,  and  ain't  been  out  of  the  penitentiary 
but  three  weeks?" 

"Yes,"  said  Ernest;  "Jesus  came  not  to  call 
the  righteous,  but  sinners,  to  repentance.  The 
only  qualification  for  salvation  is  sin,  and  a  de- 
cision by  God's  help  to  abandon  it." 

"Well,  I've  got  a  plenty  of  that." 

"Will  you  here,  in  the  presence  of  this  audience, 
confess  your  sin,  and  trust  Jesus  to  save  you  from 
it?" 

"I'll  do  it;"  said  the  man,  and  dropped  back  into 
his  seat. 

As  Ernest  turned  his  face  towards  the  tallow 
candle,  his  features  became  better  defined,  and  a 
little  figure  sprang  forward;  and  stood  holding 
his  hand,  and  looking  up  into  his  face.  It  was  a 
little  Hebrew  waif,  named  Rooney. 

Mrs.  Stuart  sang, 

"Oh,  where  shall  I  spend  eternity?" 

"As  she  dwelt  on  that  word  "eternity,"  the  tears 
gushed  from  her  eyes.  When  she  finished  the 
third  stanza,  the  song  closed,  the  slum  men  wept, 
the  tallow  candle  flickered  and  went  out.  This 
was  the  beginning  of  Woodville's  revival  day. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

OUT  OF  A  JOB. 

In  the  course  of  a  sermon,  John  Ernest  said, 
"The  church  is  responsible  for  the  slum;  our  con- 
gregation, though  possessing  such  vast  resources, 
has,  unconsciously  perhaps,  yet  really,  refused  its 
sympathy  to  the  unfortunate  element  in  the  com- 
munity. Men  commit  crime,  and  you  abuse  them 
without  trying  to  help  them.  Society  is  made  up 
largely  of  spiritual  cannibals,  preying  upon  the 
unfortunate  classes,  who  toil  and  starve  and  die 
hopeless  and  helpless." 

While  these  remarks  caused  a  ripple  of  sensa- 
tion in  the  fashionable  circles  of  Grand  Avenue 
church,  yet  their  truth  was  abundantly  attested 
by  the  annals  of  the  poor.  And  it  was  but  the 
week  following  the  sermon,  that  a  gruesome  in- 
stance occurred  in  Woodville  to  give  additional 
force  to  the  preacher's  words. 

A  widowed  mother,  with  five  children,  one  of 
them  sick,  was  dependent  on  a  son,  some  sixteen 
years  of  age,  for  support.  The  boy  had  been 
thrown  out  of  work  by  the  closing  of  the  factory 
in  which  he  was  employed.     The  shut-down  was 


OUT  OF  A  JOB.  161 

due  to  the  order  of  a  powerful  trust  company, 
whose  object  was  to  raise  the  price  of  their  goods 
by  decreasing  the  supply  on  the  market.  Five 
hundred  hands,  dependent  on  their  work  for  their 
living,  were  suddenly  deprived  of  the  means  of 
supporting  their  families,  and  thrust  upon  the 
community,  a  restless,  roaming,  dangerous  mass 
of  sufferers.  Readily  might  they  be  moulded  by 
an  anarchist  leader;  naturally  would  they  be  ar- 
rayed against  capital  and  Christ,  for  the  president 
of  the  company  was  both  a  capitalist  and  a 
"Christian."  After  many  failures,  Tom  Sedgwick 
applied  for  a  job  in  the  office  of  a  well-to-do  busi- 
ness man,  who  was  a  prominent  member  of  a 
Woodville  church. 

As  the  lad  entered  the  office,  his  heart  sank,  and 
speech  failed  him.  He  had  never  seen  such  mag- 
nificent furnishings  and  such  glorious  ease  before. 
He  stood  in  dumb  amazement,  gazing  at  the  splen- 
did walls  aflame  with  gilt  paper.  How  he  would 
like  to  be  the  errand  boy  for  such  an  establish- 
ment! The  gentleman  turned  around  from  his 
desk,  and  said  in  a  rough  voice,  "What  will  you 
have?" 

"I  have  just  seen  your  advertisement  in  the 
'Echo'  that  you  need  a  messenger  boy.  If  you 
think  I  could  suit  you,  I  would  like  to  have  the 
place,  sir." 

The  broker  looked  at  him  with  such  complete 


162  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

indifference,  that  the  lad  felt  chilled  to  his  very- 
marrow. 

The  "Christian"  at  length  replied  heartlessly, 
"You  look  like  rather  a  shabby  youth,  and  I  don't 
think  you  would  suit  me." 

Tom  colored;  for  though  poor,  he  was  still 
human.  "Yes,  sir;"  said  he;  "my  clothes  look 
worse  to-day  than  they  generally  do,  because  ever 
since  the  trolley  accident  that  caused  father's 
death,  I  have  had  to  support  mother  and  my 
brothers  and  sisters.  Mother  had  such  a  bad 
headache  last  night  that  I  did  not  ask  her  to  patch 
my  jacket;  so  I  did  it  myself.  Oh!  sir,  mother 
has  to  scuffle  awful  hard!  And,  then,  lately  the 
medicine  bill  for  baby  has  been  so  heavy;  so  you 
see,  sir,  I  can't  wear  the  best  clothes." 

"Where  do  you  live?"  inquired  the  broker. 

"I  live  down  on  Gourd  Vine  alley." 

"Dear  me!"  exclaimed  the  "Christian,"  with  a 
sneer.  "That's  the  section  where  all  the  vermin  in 
the  city  congregate." 

"Yes,  sir;  and  mother  would  like  to  move  into 
a  better  street,  if  only  we  could  get  a  little  start." 

"Well,  my  young  man,  I  don't  suppose  you  will 
be  likely  to  get  a  position  in  this  part  of  the  city." 

"But,  sir,  I  have  good  recommendations  from 
some  nice  people.  Here  is  one  from  the  superin- 
tendent of  the  factory,  and  another  from  the  fore- 
man; would  you  like  to  read  them,  sir?"     "No, 


»> 


"Whiskey  or  Crackers  ?" 


OUT  OP  A  JOB.  165 

said  the  broker  with  a   snarl;   "you   had   better 
apply  elsewhere.     Good  afternoon." 

A  fearful  gloom  settled  upon  Tom's  face  as  he 
left  the  office.  His  heart  sank  when  he  thought 
how  his  mother  would  feel  if  he  came  home  with- 
out a  job.  He  remembered  his  brothers  and  sis- 
ters in  their  rags — he  recalled  the  sick  babe.  His 
father  was  dead,  and  Tom  wished  he  were  too. 
He  was  passing  a  saloon.  The  bright  lights  had 
just  been  turned  on.  He  felt  weak,  weak  because 
hopeless.  He  stopped.  The  lights  were  so  cheer- 
ful. An  impulse  to  go  in  seized  him.  He  reached 
his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  took  out  a  nickel.  He 
had  promised  before  leaving  home  to  buy  the  baby 
some  crackers  with  it.  He  looked  at  the  coin  in 
the  light  that  streamed  through  the  saloon  win- 
dow. It  was  the  only  money  he  had  been  able  to 
save  from  his  earnings  at  the  factory.  Tom  had 
never  taken  a  drink,  but  he  had  heard  men  say 
that  whiskey  gives  strength  and  drowns  trouble. 
He  was  weak  and  in  trouble.  He  had  had  no  food 
since  early  breakfast.  A  toddy  might  help  him. 
Drink  or  crackers,  that  is  the  question.  He  heard 
merry  laughter;  he  heard  the  gay  notes  of  the 
banjo.  Whiskey  or  crackers.  As  he  stood  debat- 
ing this  question  with  himself,  a  line  of  men  all 
the  while  passing  into  and  out  of  the  saloon,  the 
"Christian"  broker  halted  by  his  side;  and  eyeing 
him  closely,  said  in  a  sharp  tone,  "Are  you  not 


166  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

the  youngster  that  came  to  my  office  an  hour  ago 
hunting  a  job?" 

"Yes,  sir;"  said  Tom,  trembling  with  the  hope 
that  the  gentleman  might  now  have  an  offer  for 
him. 

"It  seems  that  you  don't  want  a  job  so  much 
as  a  drink." 

"Oh!  no,  sir;  I  never  took  a  drink  in  my  life." 

"A  very  fine  tale,  indeed !" 

"I  am  only  troubled,  sir,  because  I  cannot  face 
mother  without  a  place." 

"Well,  these  slums  are  no  place  for  a  youth; 
they  breed  criminals.    Go  home,  and  go  to  work." 

"Will  you  give  me  work,  sir?" 

The  broker  passed  on  without  reply. 

Broken  and  disheartened,  the  baffled  youth  was 
edging  his  way  into  the  saloon,  when  a  familiar 
tap  on  his  shoulder  caused  him  to  turn  round. 

"Why,  Tom!"  exclaimed  the  foreman  of  the 
Wall-paper  Factory.  "What  in  the  world  are  you 
doing  here?" 

"Mr.  Peterson!"  stammered  Tom  Sedgwick  in 
confusion. 

"Tom,"  said  the  foreman,  "I  know  you  feel  bad 
about  the  shut-down;  but  this  sink  of  perdition 
can't  help  you.  I  called  at  your  house  about 
dinner-time,  and  have  been  looking  for  you  ever 
since. 

"Is  the  factory  going  to  start  up  again,  boss?" 


OUT  OF  A  JOB.  167 

inquired  the  boy,  with  a  little  light  coming  once 
more  into  his  face. 

"No,  not  that.  The  trust  is  preparing  to  move 
the  fixtures  to  a  plant  in  another  state." 

The  lad's  countenance  fell. 

"But  it  just  popped  into  my  mind  this  morning, 
that  you  would  be  the  very  boy  to  compete  for  the 
prize  offered  by  the  Domestic  Art  Guild.  The 
prize  is  one  hundred  dollars  for  the  best  painting 
by  a  native  of  Woodville,  under  twenty  years  of 
age." 

"Oh!  Mr.  Peterson,  those  fine  folks  wouldn't 
let  me  try  for  it ;"  moaned  Tom,  recalling  his  cruel 
rebuffs  at  the  hands  of  the  city's  best  society. 

"Surely,  you  are  mistaken,  Tom,"  said  Joe 
Peterson,  with  a  smile  that  would  have  thawed  a 
frozen  heart.  "You  have  taken  lessons  in  draw- 
ing and  painting  for  nearly  two  years;  and  your 
experience  in  mixing  the  paints  at  the  factory, 
gives  you  a  decided  advantage.  You  are  a  natur- 
al artist ;  and  you  know  you  were  promoted  by  the 
company  because  of  your  excellent  eye  for  colors." 

"But,  you  see,  Mr.  Peterson,"  gasped  Tom  ex- 
citedly, "I  have  no  paint  nor  canvas." 

"Never  mind  about  that.  I  have  all  the  neces- 
sary materials  at  the  office,  such  as  I  use  in  my 
own  practice.  Call  in  the  morning  and  get  what 
you  want." 

"Oh !  thank  you,  Mr.  Peterson ;  you  are  so  kind. 


168  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

I  had  begun  to  think  I  did  not  have  a  friend  in 
the  world."  And  tears  of  gratitude  and  hope 
crept  into  Tom's  eyes. 

When  Tom  returned  to  his  home  in  Gourd  Vine 
alley,  he  found  the  baby  crying  for  its  crackers, 
and  supper  waiting  for  him.  The  babe  was  soon 
appeased  as  it  held  in  its  wasted  hands  the  bundle 
that  had  cost  its  brother's  last  nickel.  The  mother 
had  built  great  expectations  upon  her  son's  long 
delay  as  an  omen  of  good.  At  length,  she  ventur- 
ed to  ask,  "What  success,  Thomas?"1 

The  boy  hesitated,  as  if  choked  in  the  effort  to 
swallow  the  last  piece  of  his  bread  crust. 

"You've  got  a  job,  haven't  you,  bud?"  asked  the 
oldest  sister,  looking  anxiously  at  her  mother. 

"Yes ;  I  have  a  job  of  painting  a  picture  for  the 
prize  of  a  hundred  dollars,  offered  by  the  Domes- 
tic Art  Guild.  Mr.  Peterson  says  I  stand  a 
chance." 

Mrs.  Sedgwick  threw  up  her  hands,  and  utter- 
ed an  involuntary  shriek  of  disappointment. 

Tom  lay  awake  nearly  all  night  creating  studies 
for  his  picture.  Many  fancy  scenes  flitted  before 
his  excited  vision,  but,  he  thought  to  himself,  they 
lacked  soul.  Nor  did  the  wild  flowers  please  him ; 
nor  the  birds  and  beasts  of  meadow  and  forest; 
nor  the  cloud-flecked  skies  and  the  shimmer  of 
streams  and  the  glory  of  autumn  hills.  At  length 
a  happy  thought  possessed  him.    He  conceived  the 


OUT  OF  A  JOB.  169 

idea  of  combining  in  one  sketch  his  most  painful 
and  most  delightful  experiences.  The  closing  of 
the  factory  had  given  him  the  greatest  sorrow, 
the  unruffled  love  of  his  mother,  the  greatest  joy. 
He  would  unite  these  two  conceptions  on  canvas, 
and  melt  a  heart  of  ice. 

Next  morning  Tom  brought  in  the  materials  the 
foreman  had  promised  him,  and  began  to  outline 
his  picture.  He  called  his  mother  from  her  house- 
hold duties. 

"Mother,  you  must  pose  for  me." 

"Do  what,  Thomas?" 

"You  must  pose  for  me ;  you  will  be  my  inspira- 
tion; I  think  I  can  win  the  prize  if  you  will  sit 
for  me." 

With  moistened  eyes  Mrs.  Sedgwick  sat  down, 
saying,  "Thomas,  who  would  pay  a  hundred  dol- 
lars for  my  faded  face?" 

"It's  the  sweetest  face  in  all  the  world,"  replied 
Tom;  and  his  nimble  fingers  began  their  hopeful 
task. 

The  days  fled  as  the  young  artist  bent  over  his 
canvas ;  and  even  in  the  late  night-watches  he  con- 
tinued to  work  by  the  kindly  blaze  of  lightwood 
fagots,  for  Mrs.  Sedgwick  had  not  purchased  oil 
since  the  shut-down.  After  long  hours  of  toil  by 
day  and  by  night,  amid  rain  and  sunshine,  through 
hope  and  despair,  the  picture    was    placed,    with 


170  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

many  others,  on  the  stage  of  the  Opera  House  to 
await  its  destiny. 

The  members  of  the  Art  Guild  passed  from  pic- 
ture to  picture,  critically  scanning  the  several  ex- 
hibits, in  order  to  deposit  their  ballots;  for,  by  a 
majority  of  such  votes  the  award  was  to  be  deter- 
mined. Two  paintings  were  attracting  particular 
notice,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  contest  lay  be- 
tween them.  Both  were  very  fine  specimens  for 
amateurs,  and  very  unlike.  The  first  was  taste- 
fully and  expensively  mounted,  giving  an  advan- 
tageous setting  to  the  design.  The  subject  was  a 
beautiful  young  woman ;  a  leader  of  social  circles ; 
crowned  with  carnations  on  golden  tresses;  in 
low-necked  ball  costume ;  exposing  exquisite  bust ; 
fingers  be  jeweled  with  flashing  diamonds;  deli- 
cate and  graceful  arms  bared  to  the  shoulders; 
a  mischievous  smile  playing  on  ruby  lips ;  one  foot 
advanced  in  response  to  the  first  note  of  the  violin. 
Title,  "The  Village  Belle."  The  second  was  a  con- 
trast. A  matron  busy  about  her  household  work ; 
sleeves  rolled  up  to  her  elbows;  hair  somewhat 
disheveled;  a  homespun  apron  tied  carelessly 
about  the  waist ;  dress  drawn  above  her  shoe  tops ; 
before  her  stands  her  sixteen-year-old  boy,  the 
sole  means  of  support;  despair  written  on  every 
feature ;  pointing  to  a  distant  factory,  from  whose 
stacks  no  smoke  rises,  on  whose  gates  is  posted, 
CLOSED.     The  mother  is  lifting  her  hands  to- 


OUT  OF  A  JOB.  171 

wards  heaven,  and  is  shrieking.  Title,  "The 
Crisis  in  the  Home." 

The  curtain  was  lowered  while  the  tellers  count- 
ed the  ballots.  It  was  found  that,  by  a  majority 
of  ten  votes,  the  prize  had  been  won  by  the  paint- 
ing entitled,  "The  Crisis  in  the  Home."  The  un- 
known artist  was  requested  to  come  upon  the 
stage.  Tom  crept  down  from  the  gallery;  and 
passing  along  the  aisle  of  the  dress-circle,  his  wan 
visage,  his  ungainly  carriage,  and  above  all  his 
patched  clothing,  caused  him  to  be  rated  as  a  ser- 
vant employed  about  the  edifice.  When  Tom  ap- 
peared behind  the  scenes,  the  members  of  the 
Guild  gasped.  The  "Christian"  broker,  chairman 
of  the  committee  of  awards,  recognizing  the  youth 
that  had  called  at  his  office  for  work,  and  that  he 
had  spied  standing  in  front  of  a  down-town 
saloon,  imparted  his  information  to  the  fraternity 
with  unalloyed  gravity.  He  stated  that  young 
Sedgwick  did  not  live  within  the  territory  em- 
braced in  the  Guild's  invitation,  and  that  because 
of  his  rank  in  society  he  was  ineligible  to  competi- 
tion for  a  prize. 

The  curtain  rose,  and  the  broker  announced  as 
winner  the  painting  entered  as  "The  Village 
Belle,"  by  Miss  Alice  Saunders. 

When  Tom  rushed  out  of  the  Opera  House,  in  a 
sudden  fit  of  melancholia,  it  was  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon.    He  was  shaking  with  a  nervous  chiM. 


172  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN 

He  seemed  to  be  aimlessly  rambling,  while  de- 
spair, dark  and  fatal,  brooded  over  his  spirit  like 
a  ghost  from  Hades.  He  sped  beyond  the  city's 
bounds  amid  the  lengthening  shades  of  evening. 
He  paused  a  moment,  and  looked  up.  Before  him 
rolled  the  beautiful  rivSr.  Why  was  he  hastening 
thither?  His  home  was  behind  him.  Had 
mother,  thought  he,  heard  the  decision  of  the  com- 
mittee? What  would  mother  do  without  him? 
How  would  the  sick  babe  fare  without  medicine? 
It  had  been  ill  so  long.  But  why  was  he  looking 
at  the  river?  It  seemed  so  broad,  so  beautiful, 
so  calm.  It  had  been  a  hard  day  with  Tom  Sedg- 
wick. He  had  won  a  hundred  dollars,  which 
would  have  brought  joy  and  light  to  his  humble 
little  home.  He  had  planned  to  buy  his  mother 
a  new  dress,  and  to  get  many  little  things  for  his 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  a  brand-new  rattle  for 
the  babe.  But  his  mother  was  poor,  and  society 
could  recognize  no  merit  in  her  son.  He  fled  on- 
ward towards  the  winding  river.  The  saloon  men 
cursed  him,  for  they  wanted  only  his  money.  Bus- 
iness men  classed  him  with  the  vermin  of  Gourd 
Vine  alley,  and  even  Christians  heard  not  his 
plaintive  story.  Tom  stood  on  the  bank  of  the 
silver  stream,  quivering,  dreaming.  The  placid 
water  seemed  to  say,  "In  my  bosom  there  is  rest." 
He  looked  at  the  clouds,  blushing  in  the  rays  of 
the  setting  sun,  and  wondered  if  there  were  a  job 


OUT  OF  A  JOB.  173 

over  there  for  him.  And  he  bent  his  gaze  upon 
the  river.  What  would  mother  say?  How  will 
the  baby  get  any  more  medicine?  Then  it  oc- 
curred to  Tom  that  his  mother  would  be  better 
off  without  him.  People  now  refused  to  help  her, 
because,  they  said,  she  had  a  son  sixteen  years  old 
that  wouldn't  work.  When  he  tried  to  get  work, 
they  refused  him  a  job.  When  he  won  a  prize, 
they  gave  it  to  another.  So,  he  reasoned  to  him- 
self, "Mother  will  be  better  off;"  and  great  hot 
tears  coursed  down  his  haggard  cheeks.  He  look- 
ed at  the  river,  so  smooth  and  so  silent.  Tom  took 
from  his  pocket  a  match-box  and  untied  it.  His 
mother's  hair — he  kissed  it  and  wept.  With  bared 
head  he  climbed  upon  the  rock  wall  that  kept  the 
river  in  its  place,  and  stood  on  it  wondering.  This 
is  a  bad  world  for  a  boy  out  of  a  job,  he  thought. 
The  atmosphere  was  chill;  he  stooped  down  and 
touched  the  water;  it  felt  warmer  than  the  air. 
He  stood  up  again ;  the  waves  of  the  deep  channel 
swept  by.  Then  he  looked  upward;  the  sun  had 
gone;  a  single  star  stood  on  the  horizon  as  if  to 
stay  the  darkness  that  was  coming.  Tom  gazed 
at  it.  Its  bright  beams,  like  silver  arrows,  shot 
into  the  great  depths  of  the  river.  He  wondered 
how  far  they  lighted  up  the  dark  waters.  Just 
then  there  came  back  to  his  fevered  brain  the 
picture  he  had  made  for  the  contest.  His  mother 
seemed  to  stand  before  him,  calling  near,  then  far 


174  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

away,  "Tom!  Tom!"  He  listened;  but  it  was  the 
distant  town  clock  striking  six.  A  half  score  of 
mill  whistles  rent  the  air.  Tom  started;  the 
whistle  of  his  factory  blew  no  more.  All  the  sor- 
rows of  his  young  heart  rushed  to  his  mind.  The 
whistles  ceased — the  river,  so  broad  and  so  beau- 
tiful, swept  on — and  Tom  lay  asleep  in  its  bosom. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  AWAKENING  OF  CORINNE  HOWARD. 

On  the  next  Sabbath  morning,  Mr.  Ernest  re- 
lated the  story  of  Tom  Sedgwick,  whose  tragic 
death  was  fresh  in  the  minds  of  his  auditors.  He 
inquired  abruptly,  his  great  soul  aflame  with 
righteous  indignation,  "Who  is  responsible  for  the 
sad  end  of  Tom  Sedgwick?  Who  unhinged  his 
mind?  Who  flung  him  into  the  river?  The  mem- 
bers of  churches,  the  proud  leaders  of  society,  the 
possessors  of  lands  and  houses  and  money.  With 
Christ's  beatitude,  "Blessed  are  the  merciful," 
on  your  lips,  you  shut  the  noble  youth  out  of  your 
offices  and  your  hearts.  He  asked  work,  and  ye 
gave  him  a  kick;  he  won  a  prize,  and  ye  robbed 
him  of  it;  he  asked  bread,  and  ye  gave  him  a 
river  of  water."  Here  the  preacher  paused  and 
wept;  then  he  continued,  "If  the  church  were  ani- 
mated by  the  spirit  of  Christ,  there  would  be  no 
slums  in  our  city.  It  has  separated  itself  from 
the  corrupt  masses  until  it  has  itself  become  cor- 
rupt. It  has,  for  the  most  part,  withdrawn  from 
active  warfare  with  sin,  until  it  has  itself  become 
sinful.     It  has  practically  lost  interest  in  a  dead 


176  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

world,  and  consequently,  though  having  a  name 
to  live,  is  yet  itself  dead.  It  will  assist  the  mother 
and  children,  provided  Tom  Sedgwick  commits 
suicide.  The  church,  by  its  vote,  helps  to  legalize 
the  saloon;  and  the  saloon  is  the  chief  factor  in 
making  the  slum;  hence   it  is  evident  that  the 

church  is  responsible  for  the  slum.  Christian 
society  legalizes  rum;  rum  causes  crime;  then 
Christian  society  builds  jails  and  erects  gallows 
to  punish  crime.  Rum  makes  paupers,  then  Chris- 
tians build  poor-houses.  Rum  makes  orphans  and 
maniacs,  then  Christians  establish  Homes  and 
Asylums.  Rum  damns  mankind,  then  the  Chris- 
tian government  that  legalized  the  rum,  appoints 
a  day  for  Thanksgiving!  A  Christian  country 
sends  a  few  missionaries  abroad  to  convert  the 
heathen,  and  rum  enough  to  float  a  man-of-war. 
There  is  hardly  anything  more  unchristian  than 
the  common  phase  of  Christianity.  Now,"  said 
the  preacher,  in  conclusion,  "Christ's  method  of 
destroying  sin  in  a  community,  is  to  remove  the 
sinner.  He  breaks  up  evil-doing  by  converting 
the  evil-doer.  He  stops  wickedness  by  changing 
the  wicked.  Christ's  method  was  to  go  about 
among  the  lost,  doing  good.  Our  method  is  to  get 
as  far  away  from  the  lost  as  we  can,  trying  to  be 
good  ourselves.  The  church  must  become  ag- 
gressive, or  hopeless  decadence  will  be  its  doom. 


"Corinne  Howard,  known  until  the  coming  of  John  Ernest,  only 
for  her  beauty  and  her  worldliness." 


THE  AWAKENING  OF  CORINNE  HOWARD.       177 

It  must  take  hold  of  the  world  and  lift  it  up,  or 
fall  itself." 

When  the  minister  closed  his  remarks  that  went 
home  to  many  hearts  like  an  arrow  to  its  goal, 
fifty  persons  or  more  rose  enthusiastically  to  their 
feet,  signifying  their  willingness  to  purge  and  save 
the  plague-spots  of  the  city.  Among  the  most 
ardent  was  Corinne  Howard,  known  until  the 
coming  of  John  Ernest  only  for  her  beauty  and 
worldliness. 

To  persons  who  had  never  done  anything  to 
rescue  abandoned  communities,  the  scheme  natur- 
ally appeared  to  be  Utopian.  Nothing  but  the  ef- 
fect of  recent  social  revolutions,  like  the  change 
in  Mrs.  Stuart  and  Col.  James,  could  have  induced 
so  considerable  a  number  of  the  Grand  Avenue 
members  to  enter  thus  heartily  into  a  service 
which  hitherto  would  have  been  pronounced  in- 
sanely chimerical. 

A  program  was  speedily  outlined  which  involv- 
ed time,  labor,  sacrifice,  money,  and  possibly  life 
itself.  But,  Mr.  Ernest  well  knew  that  such  con- 
ditions are  essential  to  a  triumphant  Christianity, 
and  that  a  church  which  does  not  suffer  does  not 
conquer. 

From  the  start  it  was  clear  chat  no  small  sum 
of  money  would  be  required  before  the  work  in 
Purgatory  could  be  begun;  and  then  scarcely  any 
of  the  wealthiest  members  had  endorsed  the  move- 


180  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

ment.  As  this  stubborn  fact  became  prominent, 
it  served  as  a  damper  to  check  the  ardor  of  some ; 
yet  others  were  the  more  resolute,  though  per- 
plexed. 

It  was  at  this  distressing  juncture  that  man's 
extremities  became  God's  opportunities;  and  a 
messenger  hastened  to  the  pulpit  bearing  a  letter 
addressed  to  John  Ernest.  The  minister  read  it, 
and  fell  on  his  knees  in  prayer.  He  prayed  that 
God  might  make  him  instrumental  in  saving  Col. 
James  from  capital  punishment,  and  that  the 
family  might  be  spared  the  disgrace  that  now 
seemed  inevitable,  unless  the  hand  of  the  Lord 
interposed.  The  band  of  workers  knew  by  the 
prayer,  that  the  court  had  come  to  a  decision,  and 
that  Col.  James  had  been  sentenced  to  death  by 
hanging,  for  the  crime  of  murder.  John  Ernest 
was  strangely  moved.  His  face  became  white, 
and  he  sat  down.  Then  he  stood  up,  and  stam- 
mered, "I'll  do  the  best  I  can  to  annul  the  sen- 
tence, and  by  God's  help,  I  will."  He  proceeded  to 
read  Col.  James'  brief  letter : 

"REV.  JOHN  ERNEST : 

My  dear  Sir:  I  wish  to  thank  you  for  your 
efforts  to  save  me,  though  the  court  has  just  pro- 
nounced the  death  sentence. 

I  have  been  informed  of  your  mission  plan  for 
the  redemption  of  Purgatory;  and,  since  I  was 
largely    instrumental,    through    my    brewery,    in 


THE  AWAKENING  OF  CORINNE  HOWARD.       181 

making  Purgatory  what  it  is,  I  enclose  a  check  for 
fifteen  hundred  dollars,  which  you  may  use  in  that 
section,  in  any  way  you  think  best. 

Sincerely  yours, 

L.  R.  James." 

This  letter  seemed  to  indicate  the  divine  ap- 
proval of  the  plan  that  had  been  adopted  for  the 
saving  of  Purgatory.  With  enthusiasm  at  white 
heat,  the  body  of  workers  appointed  committees 
to  carry  its  purposes  into  effect,  according  to  the 
several  clauses  of  the  program.  The  Committee 
to  Relieve  Physical  Distress,  with  Corinne 
Howard  as  chairman,  was  to  begin  the  work 
which  other  committees  would  take  up  in  turn. 

It  was  indeed  a  new  role  that  this  cultivated 
girl  was  to  act.  She  had  been  reared  in  a  luxurious 
home,  devoted  to  literature,  art,  and  music,  and, 
withal,  was  the  pet  of  Woodville  society.  Was  she 
fitted  for  such  work?  she  kept  asking  herself. 
She  had  thought  of  slum  workers  as  belonging  to 
the  plainer  classes.  Perhaps,  she  mused,  I  can't 
enter  fully  into  the  lives  of  these  people,  whose 
modes  of  thought  are  so  different  from  mine.  May 
be,  they  will  not  understand  me.  Then,  think  of 
the  disease,  filth,  sorrow,  and  sin  I  must  encoun- 
ter. But,  on  the  other  hand,  how  glorious  to  re- 
lieve the  sufferings  of  distressed  mankind!  And 
thinking  thus,  she  bent  in  prayer ;  and  a  Saviour's 
voice  seemed  to  say,  "I  was  a  hungered,  and  ye 


182  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

gave  me  meat:  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me 
drink;  I  was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in: 
naked,  and  ye  clothed  me :  I  was  sick,  and  ye  visit- 
ed me:  I  was  in  prison,  and  ye  came  unto  me. 
Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least 
of  these,  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me." 
As  the  beautiful  girl  rose  from  her  knees,  she 
looked  towards  Purgatory,  and  said,  "The  Lord's 
will  be  done." 

Corrine  put  on  her  plainest  dress,  took  off  her 
diamond  ring,  and  squeezing  into  her  brown 
jacket,  started  towards  her  hard  field  of  labor, 
to  meet  the  other  members  of  the  committee.  It 
was  ten  o'clock,  when  she,  with  cheeks  reddened 
by  the  crisp  morning  air,  greeted  her  fellow- 
workers  at  the  foot  of  Devil's  Hill.  "I  am  so 
glad,  Dr.  Foster,"  said  she,  "that  you  have  con- 
sented to  serve  on  the  committee ;  for,  as  our  first 
work  is  with  the  sick  and  afflicted,  I  am  sure  no 
one  can  render  more  efficient  aid  than  yourself." 

Dr.  Foster  was  a  young  physician,  not  many 
years  from  the  medical  college,  and  was  rapidly 
building  up  a  practice  in  Woodville.  He  appre- 
ciated this  compliment  from  Miss  Howard,  and 
assured  her  that  he  would  spare  no  pains  to  re- 
lieve the  physical  ills  of  Purgatory. 

Corinne  led  the  committee  from  house  to  house 
and  from  block  to  block  in  the  very  heart  of  the 
forsaken  district.    New  scenes  met  her;  and  she 


THE  AWAKENING  OF  CORINNE  HOWARD.       183 

drew  long  and  frequent  sighs  as  she  beheld  oft 
recurring  scenes  of  poverty,  squalor,  misery,  and 
shame.  She  asked  herself,  why  she  had  never 
been  inl ©rested  in  Purgatory  before?  Why  the 
churcheM  of  Woodville  allowed  such  suffering  and 
sin  to  erist  without  any  adequate  effort  to  relieve 
them?  Why  did  not  all  the  ministers  preach 
about  it  like  John  Ernest?  She  entered  every 
house  and  flat  and  hut  where  she  thought  bodily 
suffering'  might  exist.  Strange  sights,  strange 
odors,  strange  woes,  and  strange  people — all  of 
them  appalling  and  heart-rending — surrounded 
her  on  every  side.  She  could  not  help  wondering 
how  she  eould  have  spent  her  life  only  a  mile  from 
such  wretchedness,  without  knowing  of  its  ex- 
istence. But  as  she  brought  comfort  into  these 
sad  homes,  and  saw  Dr.  Foster  giving  medicine  to 
the  sick,  and  all  the  committee  bowing  in  prayer 
around  some  aged  invalid,  she  understood,  with 
an  increasing  clearness,  what  John  Ernest  meant 
by  the  Christianity  of  Christ. 

So  charming  was  the  work  to  Corinne,  so  ab- 
sorbed was  she  in  her  mission,  that  she  had  not 
stopped  long  enough  to  take  lunch — and  the  after- 
noon was  far  advanced.  She  led  the  committee  on 
with  rapid  gait,  to  one  more  house,  where  she  pur- 
posed to  close  the  labors  for  the  day — it  was 
Seventeen  Gourd  Vine  alley.  A  ragged  urchin 
met  her  at  the  door,  and  conducted  her  to  an 


184  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

upper  room,  dark  and  musty  and  squalid.  Mrs. 
Sedgwick  was  sitting  on  a  box  with  her  arm 
resting  on  her  dead  babe.  She  was  weeping.  It 
was  only  a  few  days  since  Tom  left  her,  and  with 
him  her  only  means  of  support  was  gone.  Co- 
rinne  placed  one  arm  around  the  mother  and  wept 
with  her.  Strengthened  by  this  act  of  sympathy, 
Mrs.  Sedgwick  raised  her  head,  and  began  to 
apologize  for  the  untidy  condition  of  the  room; 
but  Corinne  assured  her  that  no  explanation  was 
necessary,  and  herself  began  to  straighten  up  the 
broken  furniture,  and  make  up  the  pallet  on  the 
floor.  Then  turning  to  the  mother,  she  said,  "Mrs. 
Sedgwick,  I  want  the  privilege  of  attending  to 
your  child's  funeral.  It  will  be  at  Grand  Avenue 
Church/'  "Oh!  no,  Miss;  nobody  would  want 
my  child  there.  They  don't  know  me,  and  I'm  so 
poor." 

"Never  mind  that,"  said  Corinne,  "the  tears 
glistening  like  diamonds  in  her  eyes;  it  will  give 
me  a  sad  pleasure  to  have  it  all  arranged.  Mr. 
Ernest  will  conduct  the  service." 

After  providing  food  and  some  comforts,  and 
promising  to  call  again,  the  committee  separated, 
and  went  to  their  several  homes;  one  member 
having  agreed  to  arrange  for  the  burial  robe,  an- 
other for  the  casket,  and  another  for  the  funeral 
exercises.     So  the  babe  was  buried  with  the  re- 


THE  AWAKENING  OF  CORINNE  HOWARD.       1*5 

spect  due  to  a  human  being,  whose  life  continues 
when  the  heavens  and  the  earth  are  dissolved. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


"NEVER." 


Corinne  reached  home  at  dusk,  and  found  Ma- 
son Saunders  awaiting  her  return.  She  was  tired ; 
she  had  just  passed  through  experiences  that  har- 
rowed her  very  soul.  She  had  prayed  and  laughed 
and  sung  and  wept.  She  needed  rest,  for  the 
day's  work  had  been  long  and  hard.  Her  first 
impression  was  to  excuse  herself;  but  after  some 
reflection,  she  concluded  that  such  a  course  would 
appear  rude;  for  she  had  known  Mason  from 
childhood.  They  had  hunted  muscadines  together 
in  the  crisp  autumn  days  in  the  wild  woods 
without  the  city;  they  had  gathered  chestnuts 
by  day  and  roasted  them  by  night  in  the  old 
hickory  embers  on  the  open  hearth;  they  had 
recited  side  by  side  in  school;  he  had  helped  her 
solve  problems  in  arithmetic,  while  she  had  given 
him  equal  assistance  in  writing  his  compositions; 
he  had  carried  her  books  and  sharpened  her  pen- 
cils for  her;  and  withal,  their  fathers  had  been 
friends  through  many  long  years.  And  besides 
all  this,  there  were  times  when  she  thought  she 
felt  more  than  a  passing  interest  in  the  brilliant 


"NEVER."  187 

young  lawyer.  He  was  so  talented,  so  highly  es- 
teemed in  fashionable  society,  so  winsome  in  his 
manner,  so  handsome.  He  had  received  the  mas- 
ter's degree  from  the  State  University,  and  had 
won  some  of  the  most  valued  and  coveted  prizes 
and  medals  offered  by  the  institution.  And  by 
no  means  least  in  the  eyes  of  most  maidens,  he 
was  rich,  having  fallen  heir  to  a  fortune  of  half 
a  million  dollars. 

She  opened  her  album  and  looked  at  his  photo- 
graph. She  paused,  and  a  hundred  pleasing  mem- 
ories rushed  to  her  mind.  She  gazed  at  the  lock 
of  auburn  hair  that  lay  opposite  his  picture ;  then 
took  it  up  and  put  it  back  again.  Had  she  ever 
loved  Mason  Saunders?  Then  she  thought  of  Dr. 
Foster,  ministering  in  the  sympathy  of  his  great 
soul,  to  the  needs  of  Purgatory.  How  all  good 
people  respected  him!  How  the  poor  loved  him! 
A  pillar  in  Grand  Avenue,  at  the  same  time  a 
mighty  force  in  the  slums.  As  gentle  as  a  woman, 
yet  possessing  the  courage  of  a  martyr.  A  Chris- 
tian, standing  on  a  plane  of  spiritual  vision  above 
his  fellows,  foursquare  and  twelve-gated.  How 
she  wished  Mason  Saunders  were  such  a  man! 
But  why  should  she  be  thinking  of  Dr.  Foster? 
and  she  blushed  alone.  The  hour  of  decision  had 
come,  and  she  knelt  down  and  prayed  for  divine 
guidance. 

As  Corinne  entered  the  parlor,  Saunders  clasp- 


188  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

ed  her  hand,  and  looking  into  her  face,  all  radiant 
with  the  joy  of  Christian  service,  he  thought  he 
had  never  seen  her  so  exquisitely  beautiful  be- 
fore.   He  sat  beside  her. 

"I  am  sorry,  Mason,  you  have  had  to  wait  so 
long;  I  had  been  out  all  day,  and  have  just  re- 
turned from  my  work." 

"Sure  enough,"  said  the  lawyer;  "I  have  heard 
that  you  have  become  a  missionary." 

"No,"  answered  Corinne  calmly;  "I  am  only  a 
plodding  worker  among  the  outcasts." 

"I  had  hoped  that  you  would  have  aimed  at 
something  higher." 

"I  don't  know  of  anything  higher,  Mason," 
said  Corinne  coloring. 

"Corinne,  it  is  in  your  power  to  be  queen  of  the 
social  circle  of  Woodville;  and  do  you  think  you 
have  a  right  to  disregard  your  gifts,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  wishes  of  your  friends?" 

"Mason,  I  would  rather  be  servant  of  Christ  in 
Purgatory  than  queen  of  society  in  Woodville." 

"Then,  won't  you  be  both?"  asked  Saunders  in 
a  subdued  voice. 

"I  shall  be  servant,  because  service  is  Christ- 
like ;  but  I  hardly  think  I  care  to  pose  as  an  adver- 
tisement for  milliners,  or  to  be  recognized  as  a 
leader  of  fashionable  circles,  whose  customs  are 
not  only  silly,  but  savage." 

P'or  a  moment,  the  lawyer  was  silent.    He  had 


"NEVER."  1SD 

never  known  the  amiable  daughter  of  Tom  How- 
ard thus  to  arraign  society  before.  She  had  been 
the  cynosure  of  an  aristocratic  coterie;  so  that 
now,  to  find  her  giving  her  undivided  attention  to 
the  slums,  and  forging  invectives  against  the  em- 
pire in  which  she  had  reigned,  *was  to  his  legal 
brain  a  downright  puzzle.  He  began,  moreover, 
to  realize  that  she  was  drifting  farther  and  far- 
ther from  him. 

"I  can't  conceive,"  at  length  he  said,  "of  the 
belle  of  the  city,  the  mistress  of  a  charmed  circle, 
the  autocrat  of  society,  intellectual,  polished, 
graceful,  beautiful,  receiving  the  homage  of  all 
hearts,  wasting  her  energies  on  the  slums  of  Pur- 
gatory. These  outcasts,  Corinne,  can't  appreciate 
such  love  as  yours ;  they  are  base,  they  are  hard- 
ened. Corinne  Howard,  I  love  you  too  much  to  see 
you  spending  your  strength  on  these  human  rep- 
tiles.    You  are  needed  in  nobler  spheres." 

"But,  Mason,  is  what  is  known  as  good  society 
less  hardened?  There  are  two  social  extremes 
in  Woodville;  one  lives  in  the  alleys,  the  other 
on  the  avenues ;  and  the  main  difference  between 
them  religiously,  is  the  width  of  the  street. 
Neither  is  civilized  nor  Christianized.  The  upper 
classes  have,  indeed,  greater  influence  and  oppor- 
tunity for  wrong-doing,  which  they  seem  to  use 
to  the  fullest  extent,  hence,  in  view  of  their  far 
greater  privileges,  they  are  worthy  of  severer 


190  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN- 

censure.  They  that  dwell  in  stone  houses  and 
wear  soft  raiment  are  the  ones  that  run  the 
Sunday  trains  and  excursions ;  that  issue  the  Sun- 
day papers;  that  deal  in  futures;  that  gamble  on 
an  extensive  scale  and  by  novel  methods;  that 
form  oppressive  trusts;  that  patronize  the  low 
german;  that  drink  wines  and  other  liquors  in 
bestial  club-houses;  that  mar  the  sacred  rite  of 
marriage  by  divorce ;  that  foster  the  most  degrad- 
ing pride  and  hate;  that  parade  the  most  un- 
blushing infidelity;  that,  in  the  guise  of  church 
forms,  manifest  to  the  world  nothing  higher  than 
a  polished  paganism ;  and  ,that,  in  the  name  of 
man's  Redeemer,  'crucify  the  Son  of  God  afresh, 
and  put  him  to  an  open  shame.' " 

"Corinne,  you  preach  just  like  John  Ernest;  and 
that's  the  worst  thing  I  have  ever  said  about  you." 
"I  wish  we  both  lived  like  him,  Mason." 
"Oh !  Corinne,  how  your  ideals  have  changed.  A 
year  ago  you  detested  such  sanctified  fakers." 

"I  am  sure  you  misunderstand  Mr.  Ernest;  he 
lives  in  one  kingdom,  and  most  of  us  in  another. 
A  grub  swaddled  in  its  native  slime  cannot  com- 
prehend the  higher  life  of  the  papilio,  floating  in 
sunbeams  on  rainbow  pinions,  glorified  in  its 
metamorphosis.  The  worm  must  develop  wings 
before  it  can  rise  to  the  sphere  of  the  butterfly." 
"I  see,"  said  the  lawyer  smiling  in  his  sleeve. 
"I  call  to  mind  a  striking  illustration  of  your 


"NEVER."  191 

celestial  biology.  I  know  a  man  who  is  crawling 
out  of  the  mud  and  growing  some  splendid 
wings.  When  I  first  met  him,  he  was  grubbing 
on  a  barren  farm,  and  I  suppose  might  be  called 
a  grub.  He  afterwards  learned  to  make  pills,  be- 
coming a  pa-pill-io,  as  you  say,  and  for  pinions 
had  a  pair  of  saddle-bags,  attached,  however,  not 
to  himself,  but  to  the  semblance  of  a  horse;  and 
the  animal  thus  winged,  we  may  presume,  was 
transformed  into  a  horse-fly.  Now,  the  grub  has 
become  a  doctor,  rides  on  the  trolleys,  floats  on 
golden  wings,  prepared  by  Col.  James,  through 
the  fire-lit  abysses  of  Purgatory,  soars  anon  with 
gaudy  plumage  in  the  skies  of  religious  fanati- 
cism, winning  the  hearts  of  Woodville's  fairest 
daughters." 

Corinne  felt  her  cheeks  flushing,  but  resolved 
not  to  resent  Saunders'  imputation  uoon  the  char- 
acter of  her  co-worker  in  the  slums;  though  she 
recognized  her  right  to  express  her  indignation. 
So,  with  forced  composure,  she  replied,  "I  don't 
know  any  one  that  answers  to  your  description, 
I'm  sure.  We  have  but  one  doctor  working  with 
us,  Dr.  Foster,  who  receives  no  salary  from  the 
Col.  James  fund,  or  elsewhere;  and  his  skill  as 
a  physician  and  his  zeal  as  a  Christian  place  him 
above  all  criticism." 

"But  such  a  fanatic!"  exclaimed  the  young  law- 


iyz  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

yer,  growing  evidently  restless  under  Corinne's 
praise  of  Foster. 

"I  think,  Mason,  your  language  is  infelicitous," 
said  the  indignant  young  woman,  seeking  to  con- 
ceal undue  interest  in  the  physician.  "You  are, 
of  course,  aware  that  the  word  'fanatic'  has  been 
forced  to  do  service  for  innumerable  errors,  and 
that  it  is  a  favorite  argument  with  the  opposers 
of  reforms.  To  the  Israelites,  Moses  was  at  one 
time  a  fanatic;  to  the  Romanists,  Luther  was  a 
fanatic ;  to  the  formalists  of  Old  England,  Wesley 
was  a  fanatic;  to  the  copperheads  of  New  Eng- 
land, Garretson  was  a  fanatic;  to  the  Puritans, 
Roger  Williams  was  a  fanatic;  to  the  rum-sellers 
of  America,  John  B.  Gough  was  a  fanatic;  and 
to  the  scribes  and  Pharisees,  Jesus  was  a  fanatic. 
So,  after  all,  in  the  light  of  these  splendid  ex- 
amples of  wisdom  and  virtue,  it  may  not  be  so 
bad  to  be  a  crank;  and  you,  perhaps,  would  lose 
nothing  by  reconsidering  the  matter,  and  by  your- 
self joining  the  noble  army  of  fanatics." 

The  lawyer,  perceiving  that  he  had  touched  the 
wrong  note  in  attempting  argument  and  ridicule, 
at  once  turned  the  current  of  conversation. 

"Corinne,"  said  he,  "there  was  a  happy  time 
when  we  seemed  to  think  and  feel  alike;  but  of 
late  there  has  arisen  a  shadow  between  us,  I  hope 
only  a  shadow,  but  that's  enough  to  cast  a  gloom 
over  my  life.    In  view  of  our  long  acquaintance, 


"NEVER."  193 

dating  from  early  childhood,  tell  me  frankly  what 
has  cast  this  dark  shadow.  Has  some  ghost  come 
between  us?" 

"Yes." 

"In  the  name  of  heaven,  who?" 

"The  Holy  Ghost." 

These  strange  words  fell  upon  Saunders'  ears 
like  a  peal  of  thunder  from  a  cloudless  sky.  In 
some  way,  inscrutable  to  him,  the  woman  of  his 
love  was  linked  with  the  higher  powers.  He  drew 
a  long,  deep  sigh,  and  asked  her  to  explain. 

"Mason,  I  have  changed.  I  am  no  longer  the 
frivolous  girl  you  used  to  know.  My  ideals  have 
also  changed.  All  things  have  become  new,  old 
things  have  passed  away.  A  new  light  has  come 
into  my  life,  new  hopes  have  filled  my  heart,  and 
a  new  purpose  has  seized  my  mind.  In  the  light 
of  his  word,  I  have  seen  God." 

"While  we  may  differ,  Corinne,  as  to  some 
minor  particulars  about  Christianity,  and  may 
form  dissimilar  estimates  of  religious  workers, 
may  we  not  still  agree  in  some  very  important 
affairs  of  quite  another  nature?" 

"I  have  learned  to  believe  that  there  are  no 
affairs  outside  of  Christianity.  Christ  is  the 
spring  of  our  energies,  our  conduct,  our  hopes, 
our  joys,  and — our  love." 

"Yet,  was  there  not  a  time  when  I  found  favor 
with  you,  in  the  halcyon  days  before  our  Grand 


194  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

Avenue  Pietists  won  you  from  me  by  their  mad 
enthusiasm  ?" 

"The  day  was  when  your  pleasing  manner  and 
your  gentle  flatteries  were  acceptable  to  me.  But 
now  the  hollow  ways  of  society  no  longer  charm 
me.  I  look  for  Christ  in  them,  and  I  see  only 
Satan.  I  could  not  be  unequally  yoked  with  a 
society  man,  and  I  had  rather  marry  a  good- 
natured  savage  than  a  Christian  pagan." 

"Corinne,  your  better  self  is  blinded  by  exces- 
sive zeal.  I  feel  deeply  the  wound  your  words  have 
inflicted;  and,  I  pray  you,  heal  it  by  your  own 
sweet  ministry,  for  I  know  you  would  not  be  in- 
tentionally cruel.  I  have  loved  you  always.  You 
have  possessed  my  heart  through  the  golden  years 
of  our  youth,  and  my  affections  have  ripened  with 
the  lapse  of  time.  Speak  one  word  of  hope  to  me, 
or  the  world  becomes  a  mass  of  ashes  under  my 
feet.  Tell  me  that  you  may  yet  be  mine,  and  my 
pathway  will  be  arched  with  unfading  stars.  You 
hold  the  scales  of  my  destiny." 

"Mason,  our  paths  diverge." 

"Then,  Corinne  Howard,  do  you  mean  to  say 
that  you  will  never  marry  me?"    . 

And  with  face  all  crimsoned  and  glorified  with 
the  love  of  Jesus,  she  answered,  "Never!" 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

CAPTAIN  DICK  BROWN. 

The  liquor  element  had  become  infuriated  by 
the  bold  utterances  of  the  reformers  made  at  their 
last  meeting  on  Devil's  Hill.  The  boisterousness  of 
the  mob  began  to  forecast  trouble.  Three  or  four 
drunken  women,  instigated  by  the  rabble,  rushed 
towards  the  stand  in  wild  frenzies,,  dancing 
screaming,  cursing.  While  these  female  demons 
were  attracting  the  attention  of  the  speakers  with 
their  weird  orgies,  a  masked  man  crept  up  be- 
hind the  platform,  placed  something  under  it, 
and  quietly  retired  without  observation.  At  the 
same  time,  the  multitude  melted  away  into  the 
darkness.  Judge  Castleberry,  from  long  acquain- 
tance in  the  courts  with  the  treachery  and  infamy 
of  the  slums,  was  quick  to  discover  that  this  con- 
certed action  on  the  part  of  the  mob  was  ominous 
of  ill.  He  turned  to  Charles  Kent,  whispering,  "I 
fear  there  is  a  plot  on  hand.  See  those  people,  as 
if  by  prearrangement,  slinking  back  to  a  distance, 
watching?    We  had  better  — ." 

A  sudden  flash  of  fire  along  the  ground — a 
thunder  that  drowned  the  city's  noise,  the  hub- 


196  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

bub  of  cars,  wagons,  mills — a  shock  that  made 
the  earth  quiver — the  platform  hurled  into  the  air 
above  the  tops  of  the  trees — Grand  Avenue's 
choicest  sons  and  daughters  bruised,  wounded, 
mutilated,  dead! 

John  Ernest  and  Dr.  Foster  were  among  the 

wounded;  and  among  the  sainted  dead,  Judge 
Castleberry,  the  incorruptible  officer  of  justice, 
the  dread  of  evil-doers,  the  humble  and  fearless 
Christian ;  and  Mrs.  Stuart,  won  from  an  evil  life, 
consecrated  to  the  service  of  Jesus,  founder  of 
work  in  the  slums,  the  sweet  singer  of  Purga- 
tory.   How  are  the  mighty  fallen! 

Ten  days  had  elapsed  since  the  inhuman  trag- 
edy and  two  graves,  eight  feet  apart,  had  been 
made  on  the  spot  over  which  the  demolished  ros- 
trum had  stood.  They  had  been  bricked  over  and 
served  as  foundations  for  the  new  platform.  On 
the  thick  planks,  resting  on  the  graves,  Mr.  Ern- 
est appeared,  supported  by  a  crutch,  one  arm  in 
a  sling,  and  spoke  to  the  people  who  came  in  in- 
creased numbers,  to  scoff  or  to  praise.  His  face 
showed  not  so  much  bodily  as  mental  anguish. 
The  granary  of  the  Master  had  lost  some  of  the 
finest  of  the  wheat.  A  prince  and  a  princess  had 
fallen  in  Israel.  Zion  mourned  over  her  martyred 
children.  The  moon,  full-orbed,  was  just  rising 
above  the    low  rows    of    cottages    that    skirted 


CAPTAIN   DICK   BROWN.  197 

Devil's  Hill,  when  the  preacher  began  his  dis- 
course as  follows: 

"  'The  blood  of  the  martyrs  is  the  seed  of  the 
church.'  In  the  departure  of  our  comrades,  Pur- 
gatory has  lost  two  of  its  best  friends,  and  Chris- 
tianity two  of  its  brightest  lights.  But  they  be- 
ing dead,  are  yet  speaking;  and  this  is  the  way 
God  wins  his  victories.  While  noble  purpose  can- 
not decay,  while  love  is  immortal,  Judge  Castle- 
berry  cannot  die.  And  while  yonder  moon  sweeps 
across  the  brow  of  night  and  bathes  Purgatory 
in  her  silver  sheen,  Mrs.  Stuart,  the  prime-mover 
in  this  holy  crusade  against  evil,  will  exert  her 
kindly  influence.  This  babe  (taking  in  his  arms 
Mrs.  Stuart's  child)  will  be  the  ward  of  this 
chapel  when  constituted.  I  indulge  the  hope  that 
this  child  may  some  day  stand  in  this  completed 
structure,  over  her  mother's  grave,  and  sing  the 
sacred  songs  her  mother  sang." 

And  five  hundred  heads  bowed  in  prayer  for 
the  child. 

The  meeting  continued  from  night  to  night  with 
augmented  interest.  Many  believed,  others  jeered 
and  interrupted  the  service;  in  spite,  however,  of 
all  difficulties,  the  Word  grew  mightily. 

One  evening  as  Mr.  Ernest  finished  an  impas- 
sioned appeal  to  men  to  turn  to  God,  a  hearer 
came  forward  and  asked  if  he  might  make  a  state- 
ment.    Dr.  Foster  invited  him  to  come  upon  the 


198  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

platform.  It  was  Capt.  Dick  Brown,  president  of 
the  Purgatory  Free  Thinkers'  Club.  The  Captain 
was  an  omnivorous  reader,  a  fluent  talker,  a  na- 
tural leader  of  men,  and  exerted  a  wide-spread 
influence  in  the  social  life  of  the  slums.  It  was 
more  than  a  surprise  when  he  ascended  the  ros- 
trum. The  people  gathered  closer  about  the 
stand;  for  it  was  the  universal  expectation  that 
the  notorious  infidel  would  ridicule  religion  and 
attack  the  movement  the  Grand  Avenue  Chris- 
tians had  set  on  foot. 

"Fellow-citizens:"  he  began;  "the  crisis  of  our 
social  life  has  come.  Our  customs  and  institu- 
tions must  give  way,  or  else  the  Gospel  of  Christ 
as  Mr.  Ernest  interprets  it,  must  be  repudiated. 
Which  is  better,  Christianity  or  our  customs?  I 
shall  now  state  briefly  my  testimony,  which  will 
answer  this  question,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned. 

"At  the  beginning  of  these  meetings,  I  heard 
Mr.  Ernest  say  that  a  godly  life  is  a  continuous 
miracle  of  grace.  He  then  went  on  to  define  what 
he  meant  by  a  godly  life.  He  asserted  that  such  a 
life  is  impossible  without  the  aid  of  supernatural 
power.  Just  here  is  where  I  differed  with  him.  I 
did  not  believe  in  a  supernatural  power,  and  ac- 
counted for  what  is  called  a  godly  life  without 
God,  on  purely  natural  principles.  I  thought  some 
people  are  born  good,  while  others  become  good 
by  the  force  of  their  wills.    Then,  the  things  that 


CAPTAIN   DICK   BROWN.  199 

Christians  praised,  did  not  appear  to  me  to  be 
better  than  many  things  that  they  condemned.  So, 
when  the  preacher  affirmed  that  holiness  is  a  per- 
petual miracle,  I  resolved  to  lead  such  a  life,  as 
outlined  by  him,  in  order  to  disprove  the  divine 
origin  of  Christianity.  I  proposed  to  lead  a 
strictly  religious  life  for  ten  days,  then  to  go  back 
to  my  club  and  declare  that  by  actual  experiment 
there  is  nothing  supernatural  in  religion.  I  made 
sure  it  could  be  gotten,  kept,  or  lost  at  will.  My 
first  step  in  becoming  holy,  was  to  buy  a  Bible. 
I  read  it  night  and  day.  I  memorized  the  twenty- 
third  Psalm  and  the  Ten  Commandments.  Those 
commandments  went  rather  hard  with  me,  but  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  keep  every  one  of  them.  The 
only  one  I  had  been  observing  was  'Honor  thy 
father  and  thy  mother' — my  parents  were  dead. 
I  meditated  on  the  teachings  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, and  learned  by  heart  many  choice  passages, 
such  as  the  Lord's  prayer,  the  beatitudes,  the 
parable  of  the  prodigal  son,  etc.  I  sought  to  obey 
the  Gospel,  and  gave  up  everything  it  condemns. 
I  slept  with  the  Bible  under  my  pillow,  for  I  had 
heard  of  good  people  doing  that.  I  hung  a  daily 
comforter  on  my  wall,  and  first  thing  in  the  morn- 
ing I  read  its  holy  lesson,  even  before  I  dressed. 
Yet,  I  will  confess,  I  suffered  a  twinge  of  con- 
science, whenever  I  realized  that  my  attitude  to- 
wards the  Bible  was  entirely  mechanical.    I  often 


200  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

recalled  Mr.  Moody's  illustration  about  the  bee, 
and  several  more  twinges  seized  me.  The  evangelist 
said:  "No  one  can  be  a  Christian  without  loving 
the  Scriptures.  A  man  once  made  an  artificial 
bee,  which  was  so  like  a  real  bee  that  he  chal- 
lenged another  man  to  tell  the  difference.  It 
made  just  such  a  buzzing  as  the  live  bee,  and  look- 
ed the  same.  The  other  man  said,  'You  put  an 
artificial  bee  and  a  real  bee  down  there,  and  I 
will  tell  you  the  difference  pretty  quickly.'  The 
first  man  then  put  his  artificial  bee  and  the  living 
bee  on  the  ground  three  inches  apart,  and  put  a 
drop  of  honey  between  them.  The  real  bee  went 
straight  for  the  honey.  There  are  lots  of  people 
who  profess  to  be  Christians,  but  they  are  arti- 
ficial." I  made  up  my  mind  to  be  a  real  bee  and 
love  the  honey.  So  I  adorned  my  Bible  with  rib- 
bons, placed  it  on  the  center-table  after  each  read- 
ing, covered  it  with  netting,  and  began  to  fancy 
I  loved  it.  It  now  became  more  and  more  evi- 
dent that  religion  is  a  process  which  any  man  of 
ordinary  will-power  can  master.  I  had  taken  my 
first  step,  and  was  getting  along  nicely.  In  ten 
days,  or  less,  I  would  be  holy. 

"The  next  duty  was  to  obey  my  Book.  I  gave 
up  everything  I  thought  it  condemned.  I  was 
given  to  occasional  profanity ;  I  quit  swearing.  I 
sometimes  lied  when  it  was  uncomfortable  to  tell 
the  truth ;  I  quit  lying.    I  took  my  drink  with  the 


CAPTAIN    DICK   BROWN.  201 

boys  at  every  meeting  of  the  Club,  and  often  be- 
tween times ;  I  quit  drinking.  I  was  in  the  habit 
of  saying  hard  things  about  my  neighbors  if  they 
crossed  me;  I  quit  slandering.  I  also  abandoned 
my  vices  of  all  names.  The  preachers  called  this 
a  negative  life,  and  held  that  religion  does  not 
consist  so  much  in  not  doing  a3  in  doing.  Accord- 
ingly, I  resolved  to  do.  I  entered  upon  the  great- 
est activities.  I  became  a  spiritual  Hercules,  per- 
forming not  twelve,  but  a  hundred  great  deeds. 
Mr.  Ernest  said  that  good  works  were  a  neces- 
sary mark  of  a  Christian  character.  So  I  went 
into  the  alleys  of  Purgatory  and  relieved  the  dis- 
tress of  a  score  of  poor  families;  I  gave  a  dollar 
to  a  cripple ;  I  subscribed  to  all  the  charity  organ- 
izations in  town ;  I  gave  a  month's  rent  to  a  desti- 
tute widow  whose  boy  had  drowned  himself  in  the 
river;  I  refused  to  rent  my  stores  any  longer  to 
bar-keepers,  and  yesterday  I  closed  up  the  last 
saloon  belonging  to  me;  I  stopped  going  to  the 
Free  Thinkers'  Club,  until  my  experiment  closed ; 

4 

I  attended  church.  In  a  quiet  way  I  encouraged 
all  reform  works.  I  favored  closing  the  gambling 
dives  and  disreputable  houses ;  I  was  ready  to  vote 
for  a  better  class  of  officers,  and  to  insist  on  bet- 
ter laws  regulating  and  suppressing  the  liquor 
business ;  in  fine,  I  was  as  stalwart  a  reformer  as 
trod  the  streets  of  Woodville. 

"I  gave  my  next  care  to  myself.     How  about 


202  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

my  integrity?  I  found  that  I  was  not  strictly 
honest;  for  in  a  horse  trade  I  had  swapped  an 
unsound  animal  for  a  better  one.  I  exchanged 
with  the  man,  and  paid  him  some  damages ;  after 
which  I  felt  better.  Indeed,  I  now  considered  my- 
self far  superior  in  spiritual  attainments  to  the 
average  Christian. 

"As  home  is  the  place  to  test  a  man,  I  under- 
took to  manifest  my  piety  in  my  own  family.  This 
was  an  exceedingly  difficult  part  of  the  program. 
To  play  a  hollow  role  before  the  wife,  in  whose 
memorandum  all  your  follies,  weaknesses,  and 
guilty  idiosyncrasies  have  been  noted  with  dis- 
tressing infallibility,  requires  the  courage  of  a 
mighty  man  of  valor.  After  breakfast,  I  caress- 
ed my  wife  most  tenderly — a  duty  I  had  long 
neglected — and  kissed  the  children  before  going 
to  my  office.  At  eleven  o'clock,  I  called  with  the 
best  equipage  the  livery  could  furnish  to  take 
.Mrs.  Brown  out  into  the  meadows  for  a  morning 
ride.  I  called  at  the  florist's  and  selected  several 
rare  and  beautiful  roses  for  her,  and  stopping  at 
the  confectioner's,  I  had  ice-cream  served,  an£ 
purchased  some  fresh  bonbons.  At  dinner,  Mrs. 
Brown  remarked  that  she  was  happier  than  she 
had  been  since  the  early  days  of  our  married  life. 
This  remark  gave  me  an  opportunity  to  ask  if  she 
did  not  think  a  great  change  had  taken  place  in 
me.    She  replied,  with  a  smile,  that  she  had  never 


CAPTAIN  DICK  BROWN.  203 

seen  so  marked  an  improvement  in  anybody;  and 
she  wanted  to  know  whether  I  had  been  attending 
the  meetings  at  Devil's  Hill. 

"  'Yes/  said  I. 

"  'Dick,  that  accounts  for  it ;  you've  got  relig- 
ion!' 

"  'Yes,  love,  I  am  a  godly  man ;  and  I  want  you 
also  to  become  a  Christian.' 

"  'Well,  now  that  you  have  started,  I'll  think 
about  it.  How  strange  we  were  content  to  spend 
the  larger  part  of  our  life  without  even  a  Bible 
in  our  home!' 

"  'It  is  not  the  Bible,  my  dear ;  it  is  our  own 
will-power.' 

"  'Of  course,  you  exerted  your  will  before  the 
Lord  helped  you,  Dick.' 

"'Let's  have  correct  ideas  of  religion,  Lucy: 
the  Lord  had  nothing  to  do  with  it;  I  did  it  all 
myself.'  " 

"Mrs.  Brown  looked  serious,  but  said  nothing. 

"In  one  of  his  after-meetings,  Mr.  Ernest  re- 
marked that  there  can  be  no  genuine  religion 
without  the  forgiveness  of  our  enemies.  This 
phase  of  religion  staggered  me  at  first,  and  I  seri- 
ously contemplated  giving  up  the  job;  but  if  I  did, 
my  failure  would  only  prove  the  preacher's  pro- 
position to  be  true,  and  that  was  repulsive  to  my 
proud  spirit.  So  I  made  the  struggle.  I  visited 
every   party   in   Woodville    that   had  wronged  me 


204  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

or  that  I  had  wronged,  and  either  granted  or 
asked  pardon.  This  was  a  new  business,  and  was 
like  pulling  eye-teeth;  but  I  succeeded  at  last  in 
forgiving  everybody. 

"There  remained  but  one  more  rung  in  the  lad- 
der of  righteousness  for  me  to  reach ;  namely,  the 
exercise  of  prayer.  I  knew  it  was  universally 
held  by  Christians  that  prayer  is  essential  to 
godliness ;  but  how  could  I  pray  to  a  God  in  whom 
I  did  not  believe?  I  read  the  Bible  because  there 
is  such  a  book;  the  case,  however,  was  different 
when,  by  supplication,  I  acknowledged  a  Being 
whose  very  existence  I  denied.  Yet,  I  must  learn 
to  pray,  or  surrender  to  Mr.  Ernest.  So  I  went 
to  my  office  and  locked  the  door.  I  knelt  down. 
I  was  puzzled  as  to  how  I  should  begin ;  at  length, 
I  said,  '0  thou  great  Nothing.'  Then  I  had  to 
laugh.  Of  course,  I  did  not  believe  there  was  any 
virtue  in  prayer,  but  it  was  part  of  a  program, 
and  I  must  go  through  with  it,  I  closed  my  eyes 
again,  and  without  addressing  any  One,  said, 
'Help  me  to  be  good.'  Then,  startled  at  my  voice, 
and  astounded  by  my  folly,  I  arose.  Why  was 
I  praying  for  help,  when  to  receive  help,  would 
justify  Mr.  Ernest's  contention,  that  religion  is 
supernatural?  And,  moreover,  why  was  I  asking 
to  be  made  good,  when  I  was  already  as  good  as 
any  man  in  town? 

"My  experiment  was  now  complete.    I  had  sue- 


CAPTAIN   DICK   BROWN.  205 

cessfully  demonstrated  that  righteousness  can  be 
fabricated  without  supernatural  aid,  and  that 
praying  is  superstition.  I  felt  a  strong  desire  to 
compare  my  experience  with  that  of  Mr.  Ernest 
before  reporting  to  the  Club.  Yes,  I  resolved  to 
give  up  prayer,  since  I  had  gotten  godly  without 
it;  and  had  at  last  clearly  shown  that  divine 
grace,  even  in  the  best  of  men,  is  but  a  mechanical 
performance,  that  can  be  accomplished  by  any 
man  of  strong  will-power.  I  had  a  discovery  that 
I  believed  would  make  my  name  famous  for  all 
time. 

"My  next  move  was  to  disguise  myself  as  a 
tramp  and  to  go  up  to  see  John  Ernest.  He  was 
just  getting  ready  to  come  down  to  Purgatory; 
he  looked  tired  and  sick.  But  he  seemed  as  glad 
to  see  me  as  if  I  had  been  his  brother.  He  gave 
me  a  warm  grasp  of  the  hand,  and  asked  if  I  had 
had  any  supper.  He  wanted  to  know  whether  he 
could  do  anything  for  me.  As  I  saw  this  man's 
unselfishness  and  love  of  mankind,  I  began  to  feel 
that,  after  all,  John  Ernest  was  a  little  ahead  of 
me  yet.  I  did  such  things  for  a  few  days ;  he  did 
them  all  the  time.  I  did  good  from  a  bad  motive ; 
he,  from  a  good  motive.  Then,  I  thought  I  could 
attend  later  to  my  motives,  while  otherwise  I  was 
as  good  as  he. 

"Mr.  Ernest  asked  me  if  I  were  a  Christian.  I 
answered  that  I  was,  so  far  as  I  knew,  a  godly 


206  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

man.  Then  he  said,  'Let  us  pray  together  for  our 
Father's  blessing.'  I  did  not  bow  nor  close  my 
eyes  at  first,  but  as  the  minister  went  on,  I 
thought  I  could  touch  God ;  John  Ernest  appeared 
to  know  where  he  staid,  and  seemed  to  call  him 
right  into  the  study.  I  began  to  get  frightened. 
I  felt  that  all  my  good  works  were  unutterably 
bad ;  my  whole  life  seemed  a  sham  and  falsehood ; 
my  heart  seemed  to  be  a  very  cesspool  of  crime. 
I  trembled  as  if  I  had  been  smitten  with  palsy. 
John  Ernest  went  on  praying;  but  I  jumped  up, 
rushed  to  the  door,  and  fled  from  God  in  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night.  I  went  home,  entered  my  room, 
and  as  I  knelt  down,  prayed,  'My  Father  in 
heaven.'  I  don't  feel  good  now,  but  I  feel  happy. 
Here  was  the  difference  between  John  Ernest  and 
me.  I  jumped  five  feet  towards  heaven  and  came 
back  to  the  mire;  he  jumped  into  the  arms  of 
Jesus  and  staid  there.  The  preacher  is  right;  no 
man  can  be  a  Christian  until  a  miracle  is  wrought 
in  him.  Now,  I  want  to  say  that  I  have  left  the 
Free  Thinkers'  Club,  and  desire  to  join  this 
church  as  soon  as  it  is  started." 

Annie  Morgan  sang  "Saved  by  Grace;"  after 
which  Mr.  Ernest  said,  "Dick  Brown's  name  shall 
go  down  on  the  roll  as  the  first  constituent  mem- 
ber of  what  will  be  known  as  James'  Chapel." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  CASE  OF  COLONEL  JAMES. 

Ever  since  the  conviction  of  Col.  James,  dark 
shadows  lay  across  John  Ernest's  path,  and  an  in- 
creasing burden  weighed  upon  his  shoulders. 
Though  disheartened  by  repeated  failures  to  se- 
cure a  pardon  for  the  brewer,  he  resolved  to 
make  a  last  desperate  attempt,  boarding  the  early 
morning  train  for  the  State  Capitol.  It  was  only 
two  days  before  the  time  appointed  for  the  exe- 
cution, and  the  Governor  had  resolutely  declined 
to  give  him  further  audience.  Having  spent  the 
night  in  prayer,  the  minister  prosecuted  his  mis- 
sion of  mercy  in  spite  of  seemingly  insurmount- 
able difficulties.  When  he  arrived  at  the  Execu- 
tive Mansion,  he  called  for  the  Governor's  wife, 
who,  being  a  Christian  lady,  was  easily  moved  by 
Mr.  Ernest's  touching  story.  She  consented,  at 
his  urgent  request,  to  dispense  with  the  usual 
formalities  of  the  Mansion ;  and,  should  her  hus- 
band grant  a  hearing,  to  be  present  herself  at  the 
interview. 

The  noble  woman  accompanied  the  Governor 
to  the  parlor,  and  took  a  seat.     His  Excellency 


208  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

looked  a  little  surprised,  but  said  nothing. 

"Governor,"  began  John  Ernest,  "I  have  come 
again  to  beg  executive  clemency  in  the  case  of 
Col.  James." 

"Mr.  Ernest,"  asked  the  Executive  with  a  de- 
gree of  impatience,  "how  can  you  exert  your  great 
influence  in  seeking  to  clear  a  guilty  man?  As  a 
Christian  minister,  you  are  expected  to  be  fore- 
most in  condemning  crime." 

"Your  Excellency,  I  condemn  the  crime  and 
all  parties  connected  therewith;  and  as  conspira- 
tors to  the  crime,  I  do  now  most  solemnly  arraign 
every  voter  that  by  his  ballot  has  licensed  the 
saloon  that  furnished  the  prisoner  liquor;  I  pre- 
fer a  charge  of  murder  against  the  Legislature 
for  placing  the  saloon  on  a  legal  basis ;  and  I  im- 
peach your  Excellency  as  accessory  to  the  crime 
of  Col.  James,  on  the  ground  that  in  your  can- 
vass you  tacitly  allied  yourself  with  the  saloon, 
and  in  your  message  to  the  Legislature  you  ignor- 
ed the  greatest  issue  before  the  people,  the  tem- 
perance question." 

Here  John  Ernest  paused.  The  Governor  shook, 
his  eyes  flashed,  his  cheeks  burned.  He  made, 
however,  no  reply  to  these  grave  charges,  and 
suffered  his  accuser  to  urge  his  plea;  for  there 
was  logic  in  the  minister's  indictment,  and  "there 
was  method  in  his  madness." 

"I  urge,"  continued  the  preacher,  "as  a  further 


THE  CASE  OF  COL.  JAMES.  209 

ground  for  pardon,  the  fact  that  when  Col.  James 
committed  the  crime,  he  was  crazed  with  strong 
drink,  and  simply  became  a  drunken  agent  in  the 
hands  of  a  conclave  of  brewery  and  saloon  men 
who  thought  their  interest  would  be  imperiled  by 
my  settling  in  Woodville.  The  conspirators  used 
Col.  James  as  a  mere  catspaw  to  accomplish  their 
nefarious  ends.  Now,  Governor,  bear  with  me  a 
moment,  as  I  present  quite  a  different  class  of 
facts;  then  I  shall  leave  the  matter  with  you  and 
your  God. 

"Col.  James  has  become  a  changed  man  since 
the  crime,  a  fact  evidenced  by  his  voluntary  con- 
fession. He  has  sought  to  repair,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, the  immense  wrong  he  has  done.  He  has 
paid  to  the  widow  of  the  unfortunate  conductor 
the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars ;  he  has  completed 
arrangements  for  the  conversion  of  his  great  pro- 
perty into  benefactions;  he  has  donated  a  lot  in 
the  slums  of  Woodville  for  a  chapel,  and  has 
made  ample  provision  for  the  cost  of  the  building 
whose  erection  has  already  begun,  and  whose  cor- 
ner-stone is  to  be  laid  at  once;  he  has  closed  his 
brewery  and  all  saloons  under  his  control,  and  has 
done  more,  though  incarcerated,  than  almost  any 
other  one  man  to  destroy  the  rum  power  in  Wood- 
ville. And  here  is  a  petition  for  his  pardon,  sign- 
ed by  the  leading  citizens  of  Woodville,  by  the 
motorman  of  the  wrecked  trolley,  the  conductor's 


210  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

widow,  the  little  girl  that  was  injured,  and  my- 
self, at  whom  the  blow  was  aimed." 

The  Governor  took  the  petition,  and  as  he  read 
it,  remarked,  "I  see  you  have  here  the  names  of 
Senator  Kent,  the  Hon.  John  Morgan,  and  Joe 
Peterson — all  good  and  wise  men.  But  Mr.  Ern- 
est, I  can  render  no  help ;  Col.  James  by  his  own 
confession  is  guilty  of  murder,  has  been  justly  con- 
demned by  an  able  court,  and  to  pardon  him 
would  be  an  abuse  of  power  on  my  part.  I  am 
very  sorry,  but  the  law  must  take  its  course." 

"But  Governor,"  said  John  Ernest,  with  voice 
tremulous  with  emotion,  "the  object  of  law  is  to 
restrain  crime;  and  while  the  execution  of  the 
prisoner  would  enforce  a  wholesome  lesson,  his 
pardon  would  effect  the  redemption  of  ill-famed 
Purgatory.  If  released,  it  would  be  in  the  power 
of  Col.  James  to  accomplish  more  in  behalf  of  law 
and  order  in  the  slums  of  Woodville  than  any 
ten  men  in  the  city;  for  he  is  a  born  leader  of 
men,  and  if  pardoned,  it  is  our  purpose  to  appoint 
him  our  first  missionary  at  the  Chapel.  You  see, 
Governor,  the  pardoning  franchise  would  have  no 
other  effect  than  to  further  the  interests  of  law- 
less humanity  in  our  town." 

"Yes,  Governor,"  interceded  the  lady  of  the 
Mansion,  whose  sympathies  were  now  thoroughly 
awakened,  "that  puts  the  matter  in  a  new  light. 
If  life  is  worth  more  to  a  community  than  death, 


THE  CASE  OF  COL.  JAMES.  211 

all  noble  instincts  incline  us  to  mercy."  And  hot 
tears  trickled  down  her  cheeks. 

But  the  old  Executive  was  resolute,  and  shook 
his  head  as  if  unmoved.  The  prisoner  was  a  no- 
table character,  and  to  exercise  clemency  in  his 
behalf  would  subject  the  administration  to  severe 
criticism  from  certain  political  quarters.  So  the 
ease  seemed  hopeless. 

Suddenly  the  minister  rose  from  his  seat,  and 
standing  before  the  Governor  said,  in  all  the 
pathos  and  music  of  a  crushed  soul,  "I  have  dis- 
charged my  duty,  and  having  failed  to  secure  a 
pardon  for  Col.  James,  I  feel  that  a  shadow  hangs 
over  my  life.  I  believe  that  crime  should  be  pun- 
ished, and  in  ordinary  cases  I  do  not  interfere 
with  the  usual  process  of  the  law,  but  uphold  it 
as  just  and  needful.  This,  however,  is  an  excep- 
tional instance,  and  I  think  should  be  treated  on 
its  own  merits.  The  weal  or  woe  of  Purgatory 
hinges  on  the  destiny  of  Col.  James;  the  glory  of 
God  is  connected  with  his  pardon.  Now,  I  have 
this  one  request  to  make,  after  which  I  shall 
trouble  you  no  more  forever ;  and  it  is  this :  I 
pray  you,  with  all  the  vehemence  and  solemnity 
of  my  soul,  to  suffer  me  to  take  the  place  of  Col. 
James  day  after  to-morrow  on  the  scaffold,  and 
suffer  death  in  his  stead." 

This  was  an  appeal  that  only  a  stone  could  re- 
sist.    The  Governor's  wife  was  sobbing,  and  the 


212 


THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 


Governor  himself  with  watery  eyes  went  to  his 
private  office,  and,  sitting  at  his  desk,  wrote  a 
letter  which  he  addressed  to  the  sheriff  of  Mid- 
land county.  He  returned  and  gave  the  letter  to 
Mr.  Ernest  without  a  word. 

When  Col.  James  received  the  notification  of  his 
pardon,  he  began  at  once  to  evince  the  sincerity 
of  his  faith  by  surrendering  all  his  property,  save 
an  ample  dowry  for  Mrs.  James,  to  the  slums  of 
Purgatory.  The  humble  missionary  realized  that 
the  religion  of  Jesus  requires  those  who  embrace 
it  to  make  all  possible  amends  for  wrong-doing; 
and  since  his  estate  had  been  acquired  by  injur- 
ing others,  he  resolved  to  expend  it  now  in  bene- 
fiting them.  He  accordingly  sold  his  elegant 
home  and  princely  grounds,  his  splendid  furniture 
and  imported  table-ware,  his  upholstered  car- 
riages and  spirited  thoroughbreds,  his  diamond 
pin  and  ring,  his  gold  Elgin,  and  half  a  dozen 
tailor-made  suits,  and  whatever  other  property 
he  had  was  turned  into  money.  The  funds  thus 
secured,  were,  for  the  most  part,  used  to  further 
the  interests  of  the  Chapel,  to  build  a  home  for 
orphans,  and  a  training  school  for  Corinne's  "in- 
fant mob,"  as  she  called  it. 

This  course,  so  clearly  in  accord  with  the  Sav- 
iour's will,  awakened,  nevertheless,  bitterest  op- 
position in  the  family  circle.  Mrs.  James  con- 
tended that  she  did  not  marry  a  missionary,  but 


THE  CASE  OF  COL.  JAMES.  213 

a  business  man ;  and  since  she  had  lived  in  luxury, 
she  was  not  willing  to  come  down  to  the  life  and 
surroundings  of  a  slum  worker.  Mr.  Ernest  plead- 
ed with  her,  but  to  no  purpose.  She  preferred 
the  world  of  fashion  and  ease  to  the  drudgery- 
incident  to  missionary  labor.  Refusing,  there- 
fore, to  enter  into  the  mission  work,  she  received 
sufficient  money  from  the  estate  to  afford  a  com- 
fortable living,  and  with  her  three  children,  she 
left  Col.  James  crushed  and  alone;  and  yet,  not 
alone,  for  God  was  with  him. 

When  he  went  to  his  home  from  the  slums,  for 
the  last  time,  to  bid  his  family  farewell — every 
member  of  which  he  dearly  loved — he  sat  down 
and  wept,  until  the  world  seemed  to  reel  before 
him  like  some  child's  top  whose  course  was  nearly 
run.  He  staggered  at  length  into  the  presence 
of  his  loved  ones,  and  lo,  his  wife  refused  to  speak 
to  him!  He  pressed  the  children  to  his  bosom, 
and  without  speaking,  turned  his  steps  towards 
Gourd  Vine  alley,  where  he  had  rented  a  little 
room  as  his  dwelling-place.  He  sat  down  in  a 
plain  chair,  and  wept  and  prayed.  Then  he  open- 
ed the  Bible,  and  his  eyes  fell  on  these  words  of  the 
Master:  "Verily  I  say  unto  you,  there  is  no  man 
that  hath  left  house,  or  brethren,  or  sisters,  or 
father,  or  mother,  or  wife,  or  children,  or  lands, 
for  my  sake,  and  the  gospel's,  but  he  shall  receive 
a   hundredfold   now    in   this    time,   houses,    and 


214  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

brethren,  and  sisters,  and  mothers,  and  children, 
and  lands,  with  persecutions;  and  in  the  world  to 
come  eternal  life."  When  he  had  read  this  promise 
he  fell  upon  his  knees  and  looked  up;  by  faith 
he  saw  diadems,  sceptres,  angelic  hosts,  and  the 
great  company  of  the  redeemed,  whose  faces  shone 
with  celestial  radiance;  and  a  voice  of  wondrous 
music  said,  "These  are  they  which  came  out  of 
great  tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes, 
and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb." 
And  above  all  rose  the  great  white  throne,  on 
which  sat  in  kingly  state  the  Son  of  Man;  and  on 
his  head  were  many  crowns.  While  the  weary 
suppliant  gazed  on  the  King  in  his  beauty,  the 
Redeemer  seemed  to  bend  towards  him,  and  to 
reach  out  the  everlasting  arms  to  help  him;  as  he 
beheld  the  glory  of  his  Lord,  great  hot  streams 
rolled  down  his  sunken  cheeks,  whilst  in  sobs  of 
chastened  love  he  cried,  "Jesus!  0  Lord  Jesus!" 
The  vision  closed.  A  watery  film  gathered  in  the 
eyes,  the  breast  heaved,  the  head  bowed,  the  heart 
fluttered,  the  frame  was  convulsed — and  Col. 
James  fell  on  sleep. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  POOR. 

The  work  in  Purgatory  went  bravely  on,  and  at 
almost  every  service  the  Lord  added  to  the  mis- 
sion those  that  were  being  saved.  The  Committee 
had  attempted  great  things,  and  great  things  had 
been  accomplished;  for  the  law  of  Christian  ser- 
vice, as  laid  down  by  the  Master  himself,  is,  "As 
thou  hast  believed,  so  be  it  done  unto  thee."  The 
efforts  put  forth  to  reform  Purgatory  were  of 
greater  value  to  Woodville  than  a  thousand  gilt- 
edged  sermons  aimlessly  shot  at  dead  congrega- 
tions, and  Mrs.  Stuart  and  Corinne  Howard  did 
more  to  break  up  Satan's  kingdom  in  the  slums 
than  any  half  dozen  churches  in  the  town  in 
twenty-five  years.  This  is  a  swcQning  charge,  but 
the  indisputable  results  as  daily  evidenced  in  the 
vicinity  of  Devil's  Hill,  would  seem  to  justify  it. 
In  the  few  months  since  the  election,  a  perceptible 
change  had  come  over  the  spirit  of  the  slums. 
Quite  a  number  of  the  defeated  liquor  men  went 
to  other  cities,  or,  as  was  true  in  many  instances, 
they  were  encouraged  to  lay  their  hand  to  some 
honorable  work.     They  were  in  all  cases  treated 


216  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

kindly,  and  some  of  them  were  converted.  When 
men  lost  their  jobs  because  of  the  Reform  move- 
ment, they  and  their  families  were  tided  over 
their  difficulties  until  they  themselves,  or  else  the 
committee  appointed  for  the  purpose,  found  em- 
ployment for  them.  No  man  was  compelled  to 
do  dishonorable  labor  in  order  to  support  his 
family.  This  fact  of  itself  created  brotherhood; 
and  brotherhood  is  what,  after  all,  the  world 
needs.  Men  are  seeking  it  in  all  sorts  of  orders, 
clubs,  lodges,  and  organizations,  while  a  true 
church  of  Jesus  Christ  can  alone  present  to  man- 
kind the  highest  phase  of  fraternity.  All  that  is 
good  in  human  societies,  and  much  more,  is  found 
in  the  church,  when  the  church  is  true  to  the 
teaching  of  its  Lord.  No  man  need  seek  member- 
ship in  any  fraternal  organization  for  the  develop- 
ment of  his  social  and  spiritual  nature,  provided 
he  belongs  to  a  church  that  is  really  Christian. 

Noted  only  for  a  bad  name  and  worse  people, 
Purgatory  had  been  the  home  of  lawlessness,  ig- 
norance, filth  and  poverty.  It  had  no  church,  it 
had  no  God,  it  had  no  Sabbath,  and  it  had  almost 
no  night.  Its  alleys  were  trod  by  day  and  by 
night  under  the  feet  of  godless,  besotted,  criminal 
men  and  women.  It  was  dangerous  to  pass 
through  half  of  its  streets  after  dark.  No  spot  in 
heathendom  was  more  degraded.  The  Bushmen 
of  Southern  Africa  were  their  equals  in  intelli- 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  POOR.  217 

gence  and  morals.  In  manners  they  were  Hotten- 
tots. But  now  a  reformation  took  place,  which 
could  be  accounted  as  nothing  less  than  a  moral 
miracle  wrought  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  There  was 
not  a  low  show,  an  immoral  den,  a  gambling  dive, 
an  infidel  club,  or  a  saloon  in  Purgatory.  Instead 
of  these  degrading  evils,  there  sprang  up  Miss 
Howard's  Training  School  for  children,  a  splen- 
didly equipped  Orphanage,  two  large  factories 
employing  a  thousand  hands,  and,  above  all, 
James'  Chapel,  the  light  and  glory  of  the  slums. 
The  work  was  apostolic,  and  the  results  were 
apostolic.  The  jail  was  almost  empty,  the  Chapel 
was  full,  the  streets  were  cleaner,  the  business 
was  better,  the  children  were  happier,  and  the 
homes  were  purer.  A  better  generation  began 
to  grow  up,  that  would  not  make  criminals,  but 
citizens;  not  paupers,  but  wealth-producers;  not 
infidels,  but  believers,  not  animals,  but  people. 

Such  was  a  synopsis  of  the  report  submitted  at 
the  monthly  business  meeting  of  Grand  Avenue 
Church  by  the  chairman  of  the  Committee. 

When  Dr.  Foster  took  his  seat,  Mr.  Ernest  rose 
and  said:  "This  is  a  glorious  showing.  Nothing 
but  religion  ablaze  could  have  produced  such  re- 
sults. Faith  is  a  flame,  and  this  is  the  fire  which 
Jesus  said  he  came  to  send  on  the  earth.  There 
are  still,  however,  many  heroic  measures  to  be 
taken.   The  church  must  face  the  problem  of  res- 


2218  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

cuing  the  submerged  nine-tenths  from  savagery, 
and  must  cease  uttering  cheap  sentimental  apolo- 
gies for  ignorance  and  pauperism  instead  of  res- 
olutely seeking  to  condemn  and  abolish  them.  Ig- 
norance and  poverty  allied  are  not  only  the  hotbed 
of  crime,  but  they  prove  a  menace  to  civilization, 
and  a  formidable  barrier  to  evangelization.  After 
protracted  deliberation,  I  am  convinced  that  Miss 
Howard's  'Infant  Mob'  has  demonstrated  the  true 
method  of  dealing  with  the  youth  of  the  slums. 
The  aim  of  this  Institution  is  to  take  all  the  chil- 
dren from  hopeless  and  degraded  families  under 
its  beneficent  instructions,  and  by  substituting  the 
kome,  to  train  its  wards  for  intelligent  citizen- 
ship. As  to  practical  results,  all  the  members  of 
the  Institution  have  abandoned  barbarism,  while 
many  have  embraced  Christianity.  I  am  convinc- 
ed that  as  long  as  children  remain  under  the  bane- 
ful and  blighting  influence  of  pagan  huts,  the 
mass  of  mankind  must  be  doomed  to  vice  and 
despair;  for  superstition  is  death,  and  the  hovel 
is  hell.  A  hut  means  heathenism,  whether  in 
Africa  or  America.  Our  mills  and  factories,  our 
railroads  and  other  public  institutions,  together 
with  all  unnecessary  labor,  are  imbruting  the 
poor,  and  rendering  civilization  and  evangeliza- 
tion impossible.  The  whole  land  is  staggering 
under  the  resultant  curse,  and  barbarism,  dense 
and  real,  holds  in  its  remorseless  grip  the  major- 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  POOR.  219 

ity  of  the  people.  Six  days  of  incessant  routine 
toil  prohibit  thought,  and  quench  aspiration. 
A  man  who  does  not  think  is  a  mule — as  stub- 
born, as  irrational,  and  as  apt  to  kick.  A  human 
being  must  have  rest,  recreation,  opportunities 
for  self -improvement,  and  above  all,  some  high 
stimulus  to  exertion  based  on  interests  for  which 
it  is  worth  while  to  live.  He  should  be  encourag- 
ed to  estimate  himself  above  the  product  of  his 
muscles,  and  to  cherish  the  sentiment  that  he  is 
better  than  a  sheep  and  'of  more  value  than  many 
sparrows.'  He  who  does  not  hold  himself  above 
the  sparrows,  is  a  goose;  he  who  does  not  rate 
himself  superior  to  a  sheep,  is  a  dog.  Our  cap- 
italists are  enslaving  the  masses  so  that  they  can- 
not be  reached  by  the  emancipating  influences  of 
the  Gospel.  The  toilers,  like  'dumb  driven  cattle,' 
are  too  tired  to  attend  church  on  Sunday,  and  too 
dispirited  to  heed  the  message  of  hope  when  they 
hear  it.  As  long  as  our  system  of  oppressive 
labor  continues,  the  manhood  of  the  masses  must 
sag.  The  average  hand  employed  by  the  mills, 
the  mines,  or  the  railroads,  is  but  little  more 
than  an  articulated  machine  performing  so  much 
work  for  so  little  pay — homeless,  thoughtless, 
soulless,  damned.  It  will  remain  an  axiom,  world 
without  end,  that  thistles  produce  thistles  and 
pagans  produce  pagans." 

Next  morning  Ben  Rolfe  sat  in  his  office  think- 


220  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

ing.  Dr.  Foster's  report  and  Mr.  Ernest's  re- 
marks had  touched  the  hidden  springs  of  his 
heart.  As  he  saw  the  employees  passing  to  and 
fro  to  their  work,  the  question  of  labor  forced  it- 
self upon  his  mind.  There  is  such  a  vast  differ- 
ence, thought  he,  between  the  owner  of  a  great 
plant  and  the  almost  impersonal  beings  that  make 
up  the  factory  force.  Then  he  recalled  a  sermon 
he  had  heard  on  the  previous  Sabbath  setting 
forth  Christ's  view  of  brotherhood.  It  all  ap- 
peared to  Ben  Rolfe  as  marvelously  beautiful,  yet, 
in  spite  of  him,  as  impractical  as  beautiful.  Mr. 
Ernest  is  the  only  man,  inwardly  said  the  cap- 
italist, I  ever  saw  that  I  would  follow  blind-fold- 
ed; though  he  says  we  ought  not  to  follow  any 
man  that  way.  But  I'm  trying  to  model  my  life 
after  the  preacher  in  religious  things;  it  is  only 
in  social  and  business  matters  that  I  part  com- 
pany with  him.  The  bare  idea  of  that  good  man, 
without  a  day's  experience,  standing  up  in  the 
pulpit  and  telling  men  grown  gray  in  successful 
business,  how  to  run  their  factories!  Then  Mr. 
Rolfe  laughed  to  himself  as  he  thought  of  John 
Ernest  managing  a  factory.  Just  then  he  looked 
up,  and  behold,  the  minister  was  hastening  to- 
wards the  office. 

"Mr.  Ernest,"  said  Rolfe,  in  a  good-natured 
way,  "I'm  glad  to  see  you.  I  was  just  recalling 
your  sermon  on  brotherhood;  and  I  was  trying 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  POOR.  221 

to  fancy  what  would  become  of  the  Hosiery  in 
six  weeks,  if  I  undertook  to  put  your  views  into 
practice." 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  would  become  of  it?" 

"Why,"  said  Rolfe,  "there  just  wouldn't  be  any 
Hosiery." 

"How  do  you  figure  that?"  inquired  the  pastor. 

"Well,  every  ha.Ud  in  the  establishment  would 
imagine  he  was  a  stockholder,  and  there  wouldn't 
be  any  distinction  between  employer  and  em- 
ployee." 

"But,  after  all,  don't  you  think,  Mr.  Rolfe,  there 
i«  too  great  a  chasm  between  capital  and  labor?" 

"Why,  my  dear  sh ,  of  course  there  must  al- 
ways be  a  'great  gull  fixed'  between  wealth  and 
poverty;  yet  this  gulf  is  due  to  the  very  nature 
of  the  case.  You  can't  blot  out  the  space  which 
separates  an  eagle  that  soars  in  the  sky  from  a 
mole  that  burrows  in  the  ground." 

"Yes,  Mr.  Rolfe;  bu£  eagles  and  moles  are  dis- 
tinct orders  of  being,  s«o  constituted  by  the  Crea- 
tor that  neither  can  exchange  places  with  the 
other.  In  the  case  of  employer  and  employee, 
both  are  men,  and  both  brethren,  at  that;  and 
they  could  often,  and  sometimes  do,  exchange 
places,  the  only  gulf  between  them  being  one  of 
money  or  opportunity.  You  have  right  here  in 
this  Hosiery  a  dozen  men  that  could,  in  the  event 
of  your  absence,  direct  this  great  plant  with  sue- 


222  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

cess.  They  know  more  of  the  practical  work- 
ing of  the  business  than  you  do;  so  that,  really 
the  difference  between  the  human  eagle  and  the 
human  mole  is  not  always  so  great." 

"I  confess  there  is  something  in  that,  Mr.  Ern- 
est ;  and  yet,  I  don't  see  how  it  would  be  possible 
to  manage  this  plant,  employing  twelve  hundred 

operatives,  on  the  principles  you  advocated  in 
your  sermon." 

"Deacon  Rolfe,"  said  the  pastor,  "let  me  ask 
you  one  plain  question.  Is  your  business,  as  con- 
ducted on  its  present  basis,  satisfactory?" 

The  deacon  paused. 

"I  am  free  to  say  it  is  not.  We  have  had 
strikes  in  the  factory  from  time  to  time,  and  are 
continually  harassed  by  hate  and  threats  on  the 
part  of  the  operatives ;  in  fact,  the  conduct  of  the 
establishment  is  such  an  intolerable  worry  and 
burden,  that  I  am  thinking  seriously  of  making  a 
change  in  my  business;  namely,  of  disposing  of 
my  plant,  and  investing  the  proceeds,  even  at 
the  present  low  rate  of  interest,  in  United  States 
bonds.  I  haven't  discovered  any  remedy  for  the 
conflict  between  capital  and  labor.  At  the  same 
time,  however,  I  realize  that  the  fault  is  not 
solely,  prehaps  not  principally,  with  the  em- 
ployees ;  yet,  in  the  very  nature  of  things,  capital 
has  to  be  exacting  and  hard.     In  the  mills,  you 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  POOR.  223 

have  to  treat  a  man  as  if  he  were  a  sort  of  ani- 
mal." 

"My  good  Deacon,"  interrupted  Mr.  Ernest 
with  animation,  "there's  your  mistake.  Treat  a 
man  as  a  man,  and  you  will  have  better  results." 

"I  know,  Mr.  Ernest,  that  according  to  your 
views,  I  would  have  to  turn  my  factory  into  a 
sort  of  institutional  church,  and  give  more  at- 
tention to  religion  than  to  business." 

"Another  mistake,  my  good  Deacon;  for  re- 
ligion demands  more  attention  than  business, 
since  the  spiritual  is  the  larger  sphere,  and  em- 
braces the  temporal.  Conduct  the  Hosiery  on 
Christian  principles,  and  the  perplexing  problem 
of  capital  and  labor  will  be  solved;  for  brotherly 
love  is  the  secret  of  business." 

Ben  Rolfe  felt  like  laughing  at  Mr.  Ernest's 
ideas  of  financial  methods;  but  because  of  the 
high  esteem  in  which  the  pastor  was  held,  he  re- 
strained his  emotions.  Notwithstanding  the  ever 
increasing  difficulties,  the  deacon  had  proved  an 
eminently  successful  manager  of  the  Hosiery  in 
all  of  its  details;  and  judging  from  the  stand- 
point of  commercialism,  he  had  every  reason  to 
congratulate  himself.  Yet,  there  was  something 
that  prevented  the  work  from  moving  on  smooth- 
ly. A  sordid  man  might  have  been  content  with 
magnificent  gains  in  trade;  but  Ben  Rolfe  had 
accepted  the  religion  of  Jesus  as  his  standard, 


224  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

and  he  began  now  to  recognize  the  fact  that,  from 
a  moral  point  of  view,  there  was  something 
wrong  about  the  Hosiery.  John  Ernest  had  said 
a  moment  before  that  love  is  the  secret  of  busi- 
ness. The  deacon  saw  that  he  had  failed  just 
here;  he  did  not  love  the  hands.  He  promptly 
paid  them  the  last  cent  of  their  wages;  but  far- 
ther than  that  he  showed  them  no  consideration. 
He  knew  nothing  of  their  homes,  their  struggles, 
their  joys,  their  sorrows.  When  they  were  sick, 
he  evinced  no  other  concern  than  to  have  them 
back  at  their  posts.  When  they  died,  his  only 
care  was  to  replace  them  with  others.  But  now 
he  resolved  to  apply  Christianity  to  the  work- 
shop. The  experiment  might  cost  dear,  yet  he 
would  try  it.  He  was  inclined  to  believe  that  the 
pastor  was  right  in  holding  that  the  only  kind 
of  institutional  church  that  is  worth  anything  is 
the  institutional  factory — the  Christian  work- 
shop. "Any  how,"  exclaimed  he  to  himself,  ris- 
ing from  his  arm-chair  and  walking  to  and  fro 
in  his  office,  "henceforth,  love  shall  rule  the 
Hosiery." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

LOVE  RULES  THE  HOSIERY. 

Ben  Rolfe  lay  awake  till  the  late  hours  of  the 
night  pondering  the  possible  results  of  his  unique 
experiment.  His  money  and  his  reputation  as  a 
financier  were  both  at  stake.  While  his  brain 
throbbed  under  the  alternate  pressure  of  hope 
and  misgiving,  he  recalled  the  unmistakable  in- 
junction of  Holy  Writ,  "Whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all 
to  the  glory  of  God."  At  once  he. sprang  from  his 
bed  and  pressed  the  electric  button.  He  hastily 
outlined  a  crude  program  for  the  new  manage- 
ment of  the  plant,  involving  radical  changes  in 
all  of  its  departments.  The  entire  scheme  ap- 
peared chimerical  from  a  financial  point  of  view, 
yet  Christian  from  a  moral  standard. 

Saturday  evening  came,  and  the  hands  were  de- 
filing out  of  the  doors  toward  home,  when  the 
foreman  reported  at  the  office  that  one  of  the 
large  boilers  was  out  of  order,  and  that  it  would 
take  eight  or  ten  hours  to  repair  it.  It  had  always 
been  the  custom  of  the  factory  for  the  carpenters 
and  machinists  to  make  repairs  on  Sunday,  so  as 
not  to  interfere  with  the  work  at  the  beginning  of 


226  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

the  week.  The  foreman  expected  the  usual  order 
to  overhaul  the  boiler  on  the  Sabbath;  instead, 
however,  Mr.  Rolfe  said,  "Detail  a  force  of  ma- 
chinists to  do  repairs  until  eleven-thirty  to-night; 
if  the  job  can't  be  finished  by  that  time,  let  it  be 
resumed  early  Monday  morning;  and  put  the 
workmen  on  extra  pay." 

"But,  Mr.  Rolfe,  that  may  delay  all  the  hands 
for  some  hours;  for  it  is  impossible  to  say  how 
long  this  ugly  job  will  take;"  said  the  foreman 
amazed. 

"Then,"  said  Rolfe,  "I  shall  be  the  only  loser. 
I  don't  believe  it  is  right  to  drive  men  to  work  on 
Sunday ;  for  love  rules  the  Hosiery." 

Monday  came,  and  sure  enough,  the  boiler  was 
far  from  ready  for  the  fires.  Some  new  parts 
had  to  be  fitted  in,  while  there  was  a  general  dis- 
arrangement in  the  flues,  which  made  the  damage 
more  serious  than  had  been  reported.  Twelve 
hundred  hands  came  at  the  usual  hour  to  start  the 
machines;  and  with  ill-concealed  discontent  they 
learned  that  the  work  could  not  begin  before  the 
afternoon.  These  twelve  hundred  toilers,  T7hose 
bread  depended  on  their  labor,  became  restless, 
some  of  them  angry  and  boisterous.  When,  under 
similar  circumstances  they  had  lost  time,  their 
wages  had  been  carefully  docked.  Now,  to  lose 
half  a  day  was  a  serious  matter  with  many.  They 
began  to  blame  the  machinists;  but  when  they 


LOVE  RULES  THE  HOSIERY.  227 

learned  that  Mr.  Rolfe  had  refused  to  let  the  men 
work  on  the  Sabbath,  they  became  hostile  in  their 
attitude,  saying  hard  words  against  the  presi- 
dent. At  one  o'clock,  however,  the  whistle  blew 
the  signal  for  work,  and  all  hands  were  busy  at 
their  accustomed  tasks.  Still,  there  might  be  de- 
picted in  the  faces  of  many  of  the  operatives  a 
look  of  unrest  because  they  had  lost,  as  they 
thought,  a  half  day's  wages  needlessly.  But  when 
Saturday  night  came,  and  they  received  a  full 
week's  pay,  they  were  unwontedly  buoyant,  and 
began  to  think  better  of  the  employer.  This  was 
a  business  sermon  on  Sabbath  observance,  worth 
more  than  a  hundred  discourses  from  the  pulpit. 

Ben  Rolfe,  while  thoroughly  devoted  to  the 
financial  interests  of  the  Hosiery,  was  withal  ten- 
der of  heart,  though  he  had  never  sufficiently 
considered  the  moral  aspect  of  business.  He  had 
accepted  the  usual  maxims  of  trade  without  ques- 
tioning their  integrity ;  he  had  seen  men  as  trees, 
walking ;  but  now,  with  clearer  vision,  he  saw  the 
dignity  of  labor  and  the  majesty  of  the  laborer. 
He  found  himself  mingling  with  the  employees  as 
never  before;  while  they  likewise  showed  a  new 
interest  in  him — thus  love  was  beginning  to  rule 
the  Hosiery.  He  saw  a  wonderful  opportunity  in 
what  John  Ernest  called  the  true  sphere  of  the 
institutional  church — Christian  business.  As  he 
sat  pensive  in  his  office,  he  said  to  himself,  "I 


228  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

have  some  advantages  for  doing  good  that  even 
ministers  have  not.  There  are  churches  with 
memberships  of  a  thousand  persons,  which  do 
well  to  have  five  hundred  present  one  day  in  the 
week.  Nearly  every  minister  has  to  complain  of 
empty  pews.  The  weather,  even,  affects  atten- 
dance at  divine  service;  a  snow-storm  will  break 
up  a  congregation ;  a  slight  cold,  a  morning  nap,  a 
Sunday  paper,  or  a  turkey  dinner,  will  keep  mul- 
titudes from  worship;  but,  when  I  enter  the 
Hosiery,  I  find  the  whole  force  present;  every 
place  is  occupied;  and  nothing  but  serious  sick- 
ness prevents  the  attendance  of  an  employee.  My 
hands  come  through  snow,  hail,  rain,  wind,  mud, 
and  heat;  and  I  am  thrown  with  them,  not  one 
day  in  seven,  but  six.  Thus,  I  have  the  largest 
and  most  punctual  congregation  in  Woodville — a 
congregation  that  no  minister  in  town  can  reach. 
Some  of  them  are  practically  pagans,  some  infi- 
dels, many  indifferent  to  religion,  others  non- 
church-goers.  John  Ernest  says  that  the  pulpit 
must  reach  the  world  through  the  Christian  work- 
shop, and  business  men  must  become  practical 
evangelists."  And  the  deacon  bent  his  head  in 
prayer. 

Mr.  Rolfe  gave  order  for  the  factory  to  close 
half  an  hour  earlier  than  usual,  and  for  the 
employees  to  assemble  in  what  was  known  as  the 
'packing  room*.     He  stated,  with  evident  embar- 


LOVE  RULES  THE  HOSIERY.  229 

rassment,  that  he  wished  to  make  the  Hosiery  a 
pleasant  home  for  all  the  hands,  and  that  he  de- 
sired to  effect  such  changes  in  the  management  of 
the  plant  as  would  promote  the  interests  of  all 
concerned.  He  said  that  divine  guidance  would 
be  necessary  to  the  success  of  his  plan;  and  an 
opportunity  was  given  for  voluntary  prayer. 
Several  of  the  older  men,  members  of  Woodville 
churches,  offered  fervent  petitions  for  the  suc- 
cess of  the  new  order  of  things,  and  besought  most 
tenderly  the  rich  grace  of  God  upon  the  head  of 
the  establishment.  Tears  came  into  the  presi- 
dent's eyes  as  he  felt  the  throbbing  hearts  of  his 
employees,  and  now  realized  what  the  pastor 
meant  by  saying  that  the  institutional  church  is 
business  institutions  conducted  on  Christian 
principles. 

The  president  appointed  a  committee,  approv- 
ed by  the  whole  body,  selected  from  all  classes  of 
workers,  men,  women,  boys,  and  girls,  to  suggest 
on  the  morrow  measures  conducive  to  the  welfare 
of  the  force.  This  was  so  great  a  departure  from 
his  ordinary  methods,  and  so  unheard-of  an  ex- 
periment in  factory  life,  that  many  appeared 
simply  puzzled,  while  others  gave  way  to  tears. 

The  next  day,  at  noon,  the  committee  called  at 
the  office,  offering  its  suggestions  as  to  some 
changes  deemed  proper;  mostly  modest,  some 
amusing,  some  impractical,  others  impossible ;  but 


230  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

the  purpose  for  which  the  committee  had  been 
appointed,  was  accomplished — there  was  co- 
operation between  capital  and  labor. 

It  was  a  full  month  before  Ben  Rolfe  outlined 
a  complete  scheme  of  reform  for  the  management 
of  the  Hosiery.  When  the  plan  was  made  public, 
the  president's  motives  were  misinterpreted  by 
the  commercial  fraternity.  Some  said  he  was 
simply  advertising  his  factory;  some  said  he  was 
mentally  off;  others  characterized  the  whole  af- 
fair as  a  religious  sham,  detrimental  to  true  busi- 
ness, and  prophesied  the  speedy  collapse  of  the 
enterprise;  while  the  Hosiery  Trust,  into  which 
Mr.  Rolfe  had  refused  to  enter,  was  swift  to 
spread  the  report  that  the  movement  had  a 
socialistic  basis.  Reforms,  generally,  have  to 
undergo  some  such  fusillade  of  criticism,  opposi- 
tion and  defamation,  before  attaining  their  goal, 
and  Ben  Rolfe's  was  no  exception.  There  were, 
however,  not  a  few  who  had  faith  both  in  the  re- 
former and  his  reform.    This  is  the  scheme : 

REGULATIONS   OF  THE  WOODVILLE   HOSIERY. 

1.  TTiere  shall  be  a  moral  standard  in  the  fac- 
tory. All  persons  accepting  work  shall  sign  a 
pledge  to  be  truthful,  honest,  virtuous,  not  to 
swear,  not  to  drink  intoxicating  liquors,  not  to 

use  obscene  language,  and  not  to  gamble. 

2.  All  persons  connected  with  the  factory 
shall  strive   to    promote    its    interests,    pledging 


LOVE  RULES  THE  HOSIERY.  231 

themselves  to  intelligent  industry. 

3.  All  employees  must  declare  their  belief  in 
a  Supreme  Being,  whose  will  is  made  known  in 
the  Bible,  and  whose  Son,  the  divine  Christ,  is 
the  only  Saviour  from  sin. 

4.  The  employees  shall  profit  as  the  business 
prospers.  Dividends  shall  be  declared  to  them,  as 
the  income  produced  by  their  labor  increases,  thus 
making  the  employees  real  partners  in  the  estab- 
lishment. When  there  is  a  shrinkage  in  the  vol- 
ume of  trade,  the  employees  shall  share  the  loss, 
in  case  the  president  deems  it  necessary. 

The  new  regulations  met  with  unqualified  ap- 
proval on  the  part  of  nearly  all  the  hands.  A 
few  said  they  were  too  strict  in  some  particulars, 
and  refused  to  sign;  while  several  of  the  best 
carpenters  and  machinists  took  exceptions  to  the 
clause  that  excluded  sceptics  from  the  factory. 
They  called  on  Mr.  Rolfe,  and  made  complaint. 

"Boss,"  said  the  spokesman,  a  splendid  speci- 
men of  physical  manhood,  and  the  most  skilled 
machinist  in  the  shop,  "  have  you  any  fault  to 
find  with  our  work?" 

"No,"  said  the  president,  thoughtfully,  "but  I 
have  some  fault  to  find  with  your  lives.  You 
work  well,  but  you  live  badly.  Your  influence 
over  the  hands  is  morally  hurtful." 

"Then,  you  want  us  to  leave  the  Hosiery?" 

"No;"  said  Mr.  Rolfe;  "I  would  rather  you 
should  leave  your  infidelity.     I  value  you   very 


232  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

highly  as  workmen,  but  I  don't  see  any  provision 
the  Lord  Jesus  has  made  for  unbelief;  and  as 
this  plant  in  the  future  is  to  be  managed  ac- 
cording to  his  will,  it  will  offer  no  place  to  the 
unbeliever." 

"Then,"  said  the  machinist,  "what  is  the  un- 
believer to  do?" 

"Believe;"  said  Mr.  Rolfe. 

"But  suppose  we  can't  believe." 

"That  is  between  you  and  God." 

"You  intend,  I  suppose,  to  turn  the  factory  into 
a  sort  of  mission  station." 

"Not  exactly,"  said  Rolfe;  "but  I  propose  to 
manage  the  factory  on  Christian  principles;  for 
I  have,  of  late,  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
only  proper  business  is  Christian  business." 

"We  don't  object  to  that,  Boss;  but  we  can't 
sign  a  pledge  that  requires  us  to  believe  in  what 
passes  for  religion  in  Woodville.  We  see  churches 
turned  into  shows;  sermons  turned  into  sensa- 
tional speeches,  and  church-members  turned  into 
varnished  scamps.  No,  Mr.  Rolfe,  we  don't  be- 
lieve in  any  such  thing." 

"Neither  do  I,"  said  the  capitalist;  "and  the 
Regulations  do  not  require  you  to  believe  in  any 
such  thing.  It  is  the  Christianity  of  Christ  you 
are  expected  to  accept — the  Bible  record  of  God's 
purposes,  will,  and  salvation.  That  is  all.  Now, 
my  brother  men,  you  know  this  is  right.     You 


LOVE  RULES  THE  HOSIERY.  233 

know  there  is  a  God  who  made  you,  and  who  loves 
you,  and  who  has  redeemed  you  by  the  blood  of 
his.  Son.  You  know  you  ought  to  love  and  serve 
him.  Now,  won't  you  give  your  heart  to  Jesus 
and  settle  your  soul's  well-being  once  and  for- 
ever?" As  Rolfe  asked  this  question  with  undis- 
guised tenderness,  the  men  looked  at  him  with 
astonishment.  Can  this  be  our  old  employer,  they 
seemed  to  say,  who,  though  always  strictly  honest, 
used  to  be  so  exacting?  He  never  spoke  to  us  so 
before.  He  treated  us  well;  but  only  as  animals 
are  treated.  Can  this  really  be  Ben  Rolfe?  Is 
this  the  man  who  never  was  known  to  speak  to 
one  of  us  except  about  work?  Now  he  won't  let 
us  work  on  Sunday,  and  talks  to  us  about  religion. 
Deacon  Rolfe  knew  such  thoughts  were  passing 
through  their  minds,  and  asked  as  many  of  them 
as  wanted  to  take  the  matter  to  God,  to  unite  with 
him  in  prayer.  Every  man  knelt  down  as  the  old 
boss  led  them  in  simple,  tender  petitions  at  the 
throne  of  grace.  When  they  rose  from  their 
knees,  there  was  not  a  dry  eye — nor  was  there  an 
infidel. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

BEN   ROLFE'S   INSTITUTIONAL   CHURCH. 

Ben  Rolfe  realized  that  he  was  living  in  a  new 
world.  Old  things  had  passed  away.  The  old 
indifference  to  human  needs,  the  old  desregard 
for  the  advancement  of  his  fellow-men,  and  the 
old  social  caste  that  separated  him  from  the  great 
mass  of  begrimed  toilers,  had  all  vanished.  In 
the  new  light,  the  distinction  between  the  secu- 
lar and  the  religious  largely  disappeared.  He 
saw  Holiness  on  the  bells  of  the  horses,  and 
Christ  on  every  spindle  in  the  plant.  As  he  saw 
his  praise  in  the  glad  smile  of  every  workman,  he 
kept  repeating  in  an  undertone,  "How  sweet  it  is 
to  live !  Father,  I  thank  thee  that  thy  grace  per- 
mits me  to  be  a  co-worker  with  thee  in  blessing 
thy  toiling  children !" 

Mr.  Rolfe  set  to  work  at  once  to  better  the  con- 
dition of  the  working  folk.  He  visited  a  number 
of  their  homes,  saw  what  they  ate,  how  they 
slept,  how  they  lived,  noted  their  furniture  and 
surroundings,  frheir  society  and  amusements,  and 
their  sorrows.  He  became  convinced  that  hu- 
manity eould  never  be  elevated  amid  such  envir- 


BBN  ROLFE'S  INSTITUTIONAL  CHURCH.  235 

onments;  for  many  of  the  employees  were  not 
superior  to  people  who  lived  three  thousand  years 
ago.  They  were  neither  more  intellectual  nor 
more  happy.  Many  of  them  had,  and  could  have, 
no  religion;  they  lived  in  darkness,  breathed 
malaria,  fed  on  poor  and  ill-cooked  food,  lived  in 
dirty  tenements,  with  even  their  bodies  unwashed. 
The  pastor  is  right,  thought  Ben  Rolfe,  when  he 
says,  "The  homes  of  the  masses  must  be  improv- 
ed, or  the  race  is  lost."  I  am  satisfied  that  John 
Ernest  is  both  preacher  and  philosopher. 

The  deacon's  next  step  was  to  purchase  a  com- 
mon of  thirty  acres  adjoining  the  Hosiery,  on 
which  cattle  were  sometimes  tethered,  and  on 
which,  at  other  times,  boys  played  their  games  of 
ball.  The  land  was  bought  at  low  figures,  and 
laid  off  in  lots,  with  an  open  center  for  a  park. 
On  these  lots,  neat  cottages  were  built,  of  differ- 
ent sizes  and  styles  of  architecture,  painted  at- 
tractively in  different  colors.  Each  had  its  own 
yard,  garden,  young  fruit  trees,  and  hennery 
fenced  with  wire.  Rows  of  choice  shade  trees 
were  set  out  in  front  of  the  dwellings,  and  the 
Park  was  designed  by  a  landscape-gardener,  equal 
in  beauty  to  any  park  in  the  city.  Numerous 
settees  scattered  over  the  grounds  amid  charming 
shrubbery  and  flowers,  afforded  a  resort  to  the 
laborers,  when  not  at  their  tasks.  In  the  center 
was  a  spacious  and  tasteful  pavilion,  where  the 


236  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

factory  folk  met  for  a  social  hour  in  the  evening, 
seeking  recreation  in  music  and  games.  The 
president  employed  a  competent  instructor  to 
give  singing-lessons  to  all  who  wished  to  improve 
their  voices.  Sometimes  there  would  be  three 
hundred  in  a  class.  A  grand  piano  and  an  ex- 
cellent organ  were  placed  in  the  pavilion  for  con- 
stant use  while  musical  instruments  were  pro- 
vided for  both  a  brass  and  a  string  band,  com- 
posed of  the  employees.  Once  a  week  a  lecturer 
was  engaged,  or  a  humorist,  or  a  noted  divine,  to 
entertain  and  instruct  the  factory  people.  Some- 
times arrangements  were  made  for  an  entertain- 
ment by  a  respectable  traveling  troupe. 

The  work  of  building  had  gone  on  as  if  by 
magic.  Hundreds  of  carpenters,  plumbers,  ma- 
sons, and  painters  had  pushed  the  houses  to  com- 
pletion in  an  incredibly  brief  time.  Ben  Rolfe 
had  really  founded  a  small  town  of  beautiful  edi- 
fices, furnished  with  modern  improvements,  and 
lighted  by  electricity  supplied  by  the  Hosiery 
dynamos.  The  cottages  were  now  ready  for  occu- 
pancy; and  an  occasion  of  great  joy  it  was  in  the 
factory  when  the  president  announced  that  a 
vacation  of  two  days  would  be  given  for  moving 
into  the  new  quarters.  Of  course  some  of  the 
families  owned  their  own  homes;  but  most  of 
them  were  only  too  glad  to  get  nearer  their  work, 
and  to  have  the  advantages  offered  by  the  new 


BEN  ROLFE'S  INSTITUTIONAL  CHURCH.         23' 

houses,  at  about  one-half  the  rent  they  had  been 
paying.  They  were  quick  to  realize  that  in  the 
reduction  of  their  rents,  their  wages  had  really 
been  increased.  The  cottages  were  designated  as 
No.  1,  No.  2,  and  so,  up  to  No.  200.  The  foreman 
carefully  located  the  families  according  to  their 
size,  and  placed  those  not  so  robust,  or  advanced 
in  years,  nearer  the  factory.  The  employees  soon 
felt  at  home,  and  found  delight  in  cultivating 
their  gardens,  raising  their  poultry,  and  in  beau- 
tifying their  yards.  Mr.  Rolfe  proposed  to  have  a 
fair  in  the  pavilion  every  year,  at  which  prizes 
would  be  given  for  the  finest  specimens  of 
chickens,  vegetables,  fruits,  and  for  the  best 
bread.  He  further  offered  ten  prizes  for  the  ten 
best  suggestions  for  improvements  in  the  home 
life,  or  factory  life,  or  in  the  manufactured  pro- 
duct. His  purpose  was  to  encourage  thoughtful- 
ness  and  to  stimulate  industry. 

There  was  also  among  the  new  buildings  an 
Infirmary,  nicely  fitted  up  with  comfortable  beds 
and  easy  chairs  for  the  hands  when  sick,  or  dis- 
abled by  accident.  A  matron,  assisted  by  trained 
nurses,  was  in  charge  of  the  institution,  with 
competent  medical  aid  when  needed. 

In  the  pavilion  was  a  Library  room,  heated  in 
cold  weather,  containing  the  most  wholesome 
reading  matter  in  the  way  of  books,  magazines, 
and  daily  papers.     Mr.  Rolfe  maintained  that  a 


238  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

system  «f  labor  that  employed  only  the  hands  of 
men,  without  affording  exercise  for  their  minds 
and  hearts,  reduces  humanity  to  the  sphere  of 
mere  animal  life.  In  the  Library,  at  stated  times, 
met  the  Boys'  Debating  Society,  and  the  Girls' 
Literary  Club. 

One  of  the  most  notable  features  of  the  regen- 
erated Hosiery  was  the  Savings  Bank.  It  encour- 
aged the  employees  to  lay  up  a  part  of  their  earn- 
ings each  week,  and  to  become  self-respecting  and 
independent.  The  president  often  told  his  labor- 
ers that  it  is  not  good  for  a  man  to  be  without 
hope  and  without  money  in  the  world;  and  that 
something  put  aside  for  a  rainy  day  was  a  stimu- 
lus to  effort  and  happiness. 

Hardly  less  important  is  the  Reception-room 
in  the  pavilion.  Neatly  carpeted  and  furnished, 
with  provision  for  music  and  games,  it  became 
the  popular  resort  for  the  young  men  and  women 
of  the  factory;  and  here,  not  infrequently,  a 
courtship  or  a  marriage  takes  place.  The  elder 
folk  often  receive  their  town  visitors  in  the  Re- 
ception-room, whose  walls  are  beautifully  paper- 
ed, and  adorned  with  tasteful  and  inspiring  pic- 
tures, presenting  a  cozy,  homelike  appearance. 

The  great  Dining-hall  in  the  Hosiery  would 
perhaps  be  the  most  interesting  feature  of  social 
life  at  the  factory.  The  hall  is  daintily  frescoed, 
and  furnished  with  tables  and  chairs  for  the  ac- 


BEN   ROLFE'S   INSTITUTIONAL    CHURCH. 


239 


commodation  of  twelve  hundred  persons;  and  is 
beautified  with  pictures,  flowers,  vines,  and 
bright  rugs.  Here  a  hot  lunch  is  served  on  work- 
days, saving  the  weary  toilers  the  extra  care  of 
getting  a  warm  dinner,  or  the  pain  of  eating  a 
cold  one.  The  lunch  varies  somewhat  from  day 
to  day,  always  having  hot  coffee,  and  generally 
sandwiches  and  fruits,  or  pies.  Since  the  lunch 
is  furnished  by  the  company,  it  is  equivalent  to 
another  rise  in  the  wages.  Connected  with  the 
Dining-hall  are  two  spacious  Dressing-rooms,  one 
for  males,  the  other  for  females,  provided  with 
numerous  wash-basins,  racks,  mirrors,  and  combs 
and  brushes — all  calculated  to  foster  cleanliness 
and  self-regard.  As  the  employees  take  their  seats 
at  the  table,  the  blessing  is  invoked  by  some  Chris- 
tian laborer,  on  invitation  of  the  foreman.  Quite 
often  Mr.  Rolfe  himself  takes  lunch  with  the 
operatives,  and  always  adds  pleasure  to  the  hour 
which  has  become  one  of  the  most  joyous  in  all 
the  hours  of  factory  life. 

Nor  did  the  president  neglect  the  religious  in- 
terests of  his  employees.  The  hands  hold  a 
prayer-meeting  at  the  pavilion  one  night  in  the 
week,  and  a  Sunday-school  on  Sabbath  after- 
noons. These  services  are  well  attended,  and 
often  result  in  conversions.  The  singing  is  ex- 
cellent, rendered  by  a  choir  made  up  entirely  of 
factory  voices.     Thus  the   Hosiery  has  become 


240  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

what  John  Ernest  called  an  institutional  church, 
and  does  more  towards  spreading  the  Gospel,  and 
building  up  the  Kingdom  of  Christ,  than  nine- 
tenths  of  the  churches  of  Woodville.  The  problem 
of  reaching  the  masses  has  been  solved,  and  the 
Christianity  of  Christ  embodied  in  business. 

From  a  financial  point  of  view,  the  new  regime 
is  a  success.  The  intelligence  of  the  hands  is 
promoted,  their  efficiency  increased,  their  moral 
character  elevated,  and  their  work  better  done. 
The  factory's  reputation  for  honest  goods  keeps 
its  spindles  busy,  when  like  plants  are  idle.  In 
the  same  time  the  hands  do  more  work,  because 
better  cared  for,  and  because  all  the  motives  that 
control  hearts  and  brains  are  active.  Ben  Rolfe 
saw  that  a  happy  man  can  accomplish  more  than 
an  unhappy  one.  And  then,  there  are  no  riots 
or  strikes  or  losses  from  changing  hands ;  for  the 
Hosiery  has  become  the  most  pleasant  of  homes, 
and  seldom  does  an  employee  wish  to  leave  it. 
Yes ;  it  is  a  success ;  the  work  is  better,  the  prices 
better,  the  wages  better,  the  homes  better,  the 
people  better,  and  Ben  Rolfe  is  better.  Indeed, 
the  president  says  he  derives  more  good  from  the 
change  of  management  than  the  employees  do ; 
while  John  Ernest  adds,  that  Deacon  Rolfe  does 
more  to  evangelize  Woodville  than  forty  commer- 
cial evangelists  shouting  night  after  night  their 
metalic  hallelujahs. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  WAGES  OF  SOCIETY  IS  DEATH. 

In  his  morning  sermon,  Mr.  Ernest  said:  "The 
crime  of  the  Church  is,  that  it  has  not  given  to  the 
world  Christian  society.  It  has  established  col- 
leges and  benevolent  institutions  for  the  poor,  the 
blind,  and  the  aged.  It  has  built  hospitals  for  the 
sick  and  the  injured.  It  has  made  every  civilized 
land  vocal  with  sacred  songs.  It  has  crowned  lit- 
erature with  the  Bible.  It  has  girdled  the  globe 
with  missions.  But  it  has  failed  to  foster  a  dis- 
tinct society  for  its  own  members.  As  no  other 
organization,  it  teaches  mankind  to  change  their 
lives,  yet  offers  no  social  environment  for  the  life 
when  changed.  Men  become  children  of  light,  to 
remain  among  the  sons  of  darkness;  children  of 
God,  to  seek  their  joys  with  the  offspring  of  Sa- 
tan ;  heirs  of  glory,  to  find  their  amusements  with 
the  votaries  of  shame.  Christianity  gets  its  moral 
code  and  systematic  theology  from  heaven,  while 
it  borrows  its  society  from  the  world.  The  social 
standard  of  the  sanctuary  is  identical  in  form 
and  scope  with  that  of  the  unregenerated  com- 
munity, which  places  its  coronet  on  the  brow  of 


242  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

money,  and  pays  homage  to  the  divinities  of  the 
dance,  the  card-party  and  the  theatre.  In  spirit 
and  purpose  Christian  and  worldly  society  are 
one,  without  a  protest.  Christianity  offers  re- 
ligion to  the  sinner,  but  no  religious  society.  It 
says,  'take  my  faith,  and  I  will  take  your  works; 
bow  down  before  God,  and  I  will  bow  down  be- 
fore Mammon ;  be  Christian,  and  I  will  be  world- 
ly ;  be  true  in  the  inner  life,  and  I  will  be  false  in 
the  outer  life;  come  out  of  the  world  into  the 
church,  and  I  will  go  out  of  the  church  into  the 
world;  be  like  me,  and  I  will  be  like  you.'  The 
qualifications  for  society  disqualify  a  person  for 
the  church.  Among  fashionable  requirements  ar 
wealth,  titles,  acquaintance  with  low  amusements, 
familiarity  with  light,  and  even  stained  literature, 
and  a  prayerless  spirit.  Character  is  at  a  dis- 
count. A  woman  soiled  by  divorce  may  be  queen 
of  fashion ;  a  gay  Lothario  may  be  a  social  prince. 
Society  does  not  raise  a  barrier  against  infideli- 
ty, does  not  place  the  ban  on  political  fraud,  and 
does  not  exclude  dishonesty,  if  the  scale  of  opera- 
tions be  large  enough.  The  world  has  been  some- 
what influenced  by  the  church,  but  the  church  has 
been  influenced  more  by  the  world.  There  is  to- 
day no  such  thing  as  Christia?i  society;  and  this 
appears  the  more  incredible  in  view  of  the  fact 
that,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  church  sprang  out  of 
Christ's  social  nature.    When  but  twelve  years  of 


THE  WAGES  OF   SOCIETY  IS   DEATH.  243 

age  he  was  so  sociable  that  he  left  his  mother  and 
remained  in  the  temple  conversing  with  the  doc- 
tors of  the  law.  At  the  very  beginning  of  his 
ministry,  his  first  step  was  to  call  about  him  a 
band  of  disciples,  Peter,  James,  John,  and  others, 
who  became  his  life-long  companions.  He  had  to 
have  friends,  and  wrought  miracles  to  win  the 
love  of  men.  He  formed  his  companions  into  a 
church,  that  is,  a  religious  society,  which  he  called 
his  bride.  Christ  was  intensely  social;  made 
friends  everywhere,  and  of  all  sorts  of  people:. 
He  took  little  children  in  his  arms,  let  John  put 
his  head  on  his  bosom,  let  a  penitent  woman  wash 
his  feet  with  tears,  and  was  a  friend  of  publicans 
and  sinners.  He  gave  us  baptism  to  denote  our 
union  with  him;  he  ordained  the  Lord's  supper 
that  we  might  feast  and  commune  with  him. 
There  is  a  rich  social  feature  in  all  the  worship 
of  the  sanctuary.  In  hymns,  you  sing  his  praise, 
and  he  listens.  In  prayer,  you  speak  with  him ; 
and  in  the  Scriptures,  he  speaks  with  you.  This 
companionship,  moreover,  continues  in  heaven; 
for  the  saints  are  represented  as  reigning  with 
him  and  as  being  forever  with  the  Lord.  So  John 
summed  up  the  whole  matter  when  he  3aid, 
Truly  our  fellowship  is  with  the  Father,  and 
with  his  Son  Jesus  Christ.' 

"Now,"  said  John  Ernest  in  conclusion,  "when 
Christ  founded  the  church,  he  established  societv. 


244  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

Of  this  regenerated  fellowship,  character  is  the 
standard.  To  belong  to  it,  you  must  abandon  the 
world's  measures  and  customs,  and  lead  a  life  en- 
tirely apart  from  that  of  the  unregenerated  elite, 
which,  at  best,  is  but  the  gilded  shell  of  paganism. 
The  church  must  create  its  own  social  sphere, 
with  the  dance,  the  card-party,  the  theatre,  and 
the  wine-dinner  omitted.  Society  as  at  present 
constituted,  is  selfish  and  cruel.  The  social  trust 
is  as  heartless  as  the  Tobacco  1'rust.  Whether 
consisting  of  four  or  four  hundred,  it  ignores  or 
crushes  every  man  that  comes  in  its  way,  no  mat- 
ter how  gifted  or  how  honest.  We  think  of  Bona- 
parte as  a  human  monster,  crushing  communities 
under  the  feet  of  his  resistless  legions,  sacrificing 
his  fellow-men  to  his  vaulting  ambition;  yet  the 
same  spirit  is  shown  in  the  exclusiveness  of  soci- 
ety, that  regards  the  great  toiling  masses  of  man- 
kind as  animals  on  whose  necks  it  may  tread  at 
will,  for  the  crime  of  earning  their  bread — and 
often  the  leaders  of  this  coterie  are  called  Chris- 
tians ! 

"When  persons  enter  the  church,  they  should 
at  the  same  time  enter  a  fellowship  so  sweet,  so 
noble,  so  Christian,  that  they  will  not  desire  to 
return  to  the  world  for  companionship  and  sym- 
pathy; the  poor  should  not  be  set  aside,  the  out- 
casts should  not  be  trampled  on ;  but  all  should  feel 
the  uplifting  influence  of  those  who  have  better 


THE  WAGES  OF  SOCIETY  IS  DEATH.  245 

advantages.  Make  the  most  of  every  one  that 
comes  into  the  church ;  take  him  into  your  fellow- 
ship, mingle  with  him  socially,  hold  him  up  as  he 
stretches  his  soiled  hands  towards  the  skies.  The 
Kingdom  cannot  come  till  Christian  society 
comes.  Then,  throw  to  the  moles  and  the  bats 
your  pride,  your  immoral  books  and  pictures, 
your  low-necked  dresses  and  ball  costumes,  and 
your  decanters  and  theatre-tickets,  and  help  your 
fellow-Christians,  less  fortunate  than  you,  to  rise 
in  the  social  scale  of  life." 

After  the  benediction,  a  handsome  woman 
dressed  according  to  the  demands  of  the  most  ex- 
acting fashion,  with  jeweled  hands,  quietly  and 
almost  unobserved,  crossed  the  aisle,  drying  her 
eyes  with  her  richly  embroidered  handkerchief, 
and  shook  hands  with  the  pastor. 

"Mr.  Ernest,"  said  Mrs.  James,  "having  been 
fatally  intimate  with  the  ways  of  society,  I  can 
say  with  some  authority  that  you  never  delivered 
a  truer  message,  than  the  sermon  of  this  morning 
— but  it  is  too  late  to  help  me!"  And  there  was 
a  minor  quaver  in  her  voice,  and  a  wild  glare  in 
her  eyes. 

The  congregation  passed  out  of  the  church 
promptly,  and  the  old  sexton  swung  the  great 
doors  together,  not  knowing  that  a  lady  had  re- 
mained in  the  edifice. 


246  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

Tearing  a  fly-leaf  from  a  hymn-book,  Mrs. 
James  wrote  as  follows: 

To  Grand  Avenue  Church: 

When  I  came  to  service  this  morning,  I  in- 
tended to  retire  from  life  privately  at  my  own 
home;  but  after  hearing  the  sermon,  I  resolved  to 
illustrate  the  solemn  truths  the  pastor  uttered. 
Since  I  accomplished  no  good  while  living,  I  may 
be  of  some  service  when  dying. 

It  will  doubtless  be  a  surprise  to  my  friends 
when  I  say  that  I  leave  the  world  because  society 
has  poisoned  my  heart  and  blighted  my  life.  As 
you  too  well  know,  I  was  a  leader  in  fashionable 
circles,  proud  of  my  position  and  influence.  I  was 
prominent  in  nearly  all  the  social  functions  of 

Woodville,  a  patroness  of  the  city's  gaities,  and. 
during  Dr.  Arlington's  ministry,  a  pillar  in  Grand 
Avenue  Church.  Of  course,  I  was  not  a  Christian 
— but  then,  none  of  our  churches,  and  no  minister 
except  Mr.  Ernest,  requires  members  to  be  Chris- 
tians. As  the  pastor  so  clearly  demonstrated, 
the  church  had  no  distinct  fellowship  outside  of 
congregational  meetings,  and  I  drifted  into  the 

vortex  of  fashion,  to  get  my  society  where  all 
Christians  get  theirs- — in  the  domain  of  the  Prince 
of  darkness.  What  is  called  the  world  can  offer 
us  nothing.  Like  the  fabled  vampire,  it  sucks  the 
blood  while  fanning  its  victim  with  its  wings.  It 
stifles  modesty  and  destroys  virtue.  Its  motto  is, 
eat,  drink,  and  be  merry.  Its  shibboleth  is  money, 
and  its  reward  is  despair. 

It  was  cruel  society  that  broke  the  tie  that 


THE  WAGES   OF   SOCIETY   IS   DEATH.  247 

bound  me  to  my  husband.  When  he  needed  sym- 
pathy, I  showed  only  heartlessness.  When  he 
needed  a  friend,  I  became  an  enemy.  When  he 
needed  help,  I  became  a  hindrance.  When  he  need- 
ed a  wife,  I  deserted  him.  When  he  became  true, 
I  became  false.  I  loved  the  world  more  than  the 
church,  and  society  more  than  my  husband. 

It  was  society  that  made  me  forget;  and  I 
formed  an  alliance  which  I  now  dissolve  on  the 
black  altar  of  Mors. 

Mrs.  James  laid  her  confession  on  the  pulpit 
Bible,  and  sat  down  in  the  minister's  great  arm- 
chair on  the  rostrum.  After  she  had  fingered  at 
her  auburn  tresses,  and  arranged  the  folds  of  her 
dress,  she  placed  a  white  tablet  in  her  lips. 

Shades  and  dreams — she  beheld  the  gay  pro- 
2ession  of  Woodville's  elite  passing  before  her  in 
dancing  costume.  The  rhythm  of  quick  music — 
Golden  lights  flashed  on  proud  men  and  ambitious 
women,  and  the  beauty  of  youth — Jewelry 
sparkled,  so  did  the  wine — The  gorgeous  pageant 
responded  to  the  notes  of  stringed  instruments — 
All  hearts  were  merry,  and  all  knees  bowed  to 
Bacchus — All  forgot  God — In  passionate  em- 
brace, amorous  couples  swung  to  and  fro  over 
the  waxed  floor  through  delirious  hours — Hus- 
bands alienated,  wives  betrayed,  youth  soiled — 
The  birth  or  amours,  the  death  of  love — These 
human  phantoms  swung  and  reeled  and  panted — 


248  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

Hearts  crushed,  homes  blighted — Modesty  vanish- 
ed, virtue  stained,  marriage  vows  broken — The 
shadows  thicken — The  music  sounds  afar — The 
ghosts  recede — The  cry  of  the  lover — The  sigh  of 
the  husband — The  wail  of  the  wife — Despair  with 
sable  wings — The  sting  of  death! 

The  evening  congregation  was  pouring  rapidly 
into  the  church,  but  in  the  dim  light  of  the  few 
bulbs  that  as  yet  were  doing  service,  the  pulpit 
flanked  with  flowers  effectually  concealed  the  pas- 
tor's chair  from  the  audience.  When  Mr.  Ernest 
stepped  upon  the  rostrum,  the  full  electric  cur- 
rent flowed  on ;  and  as  he  turned  to  take  his  seat, 
he  stopped,  threw  up  both  hands,  and  exclaimed, 
"Great  Heavens!    Mrs.  James!" 


"The  Wages  of  Society  is  Death." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


THE  PERIL  OF  THE  BROWNSTONE  FRONT. 


Corinne  Howard  had  rapidly  developed  into  a 
superb  missionary  to  the  outcasts.  At  first  she 
was  a  bit  awkward  as  she  moved  among  condi- 
tions entirely  new  to  her,  but  soon  she  readily 
adjusted  herself  to  the  needs  of  submerged  hu- 
manity. The  church  had  placed  at  her  disposal 
nine  hundred  dollars  of  the  amount  contributed 
by  Col.  James,  of  which  she  had  expended  seven 
hundred  in  assisting  the  poor  families  of  Purga- 
tory. Chronic  cases  of  sickness  were  removed  to 
the  hospitals  or  sent  to  suitable  "homes,"  while 
orphans,  forsaken  children,  idiots,  and  lunatics 
were  placed  in  asylums  founded  for  them  by  the 
munificence  of  the  citizens.  Wives,  forsaken  or 
divorced  by  brutal  husbands,  were  put  in  a  posi- 
tion to  earn  their  own  living;  who,  thus  encour- 
aged to  turn  their  backs  to  the  unhappy  past, 
faced  the  future  with  renewed  hope.  It  need  not, 
therefore,  excite  surprise  that  Corinne  won,  by 
means  of  her  self-sacrificing  love,  the  splendid 
title  of  "The  Angel  of  Purgatory."  Nor  need  it  be 
said  that  she  was  never  happier  than  when  she 


252  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

trudged  from  flat  to  flat,  followed  by  a  flock  of  the 
wee  tots  of  the  alleys,  catching  hold  of  her  hands, 
getting  in  the  way  of  her  feet,  all  the  while  ask- 
ing the  oddest  questions. 

But  now,  others  than  neglected  waifs  began  to 
attract  her  attention.  A  greater  question  pre- 
sented itself  to  her  mind.  She  had  thought  of 
wickedness  as  breeding  mainly  in  tenement 
houses  and  saloons,  but  Mrs.  James*  tragic  death 
and  fearful  arraignment  of  the  social  fabric, 
brought  to  light  the  astounding  fact  that  the 
brownstone  front  and  the  grand  opera  have 
proved  nests  of  iniquity  involving  graver  prob- 
lems than  even  the  slums. 

This  revulsion  of  feeling  was  due  in  part  to  the 
impassioned  address  delivered  in  Grand  Avenue 
Church  on  the  occasion  of  Mrs.  James'  funeral. 
With  plainness  of  speech  that  stunned  and  pathos 
that  burned,  Mr.  Ernest  thus  indicted  wickedness 
in  high  places :  "In  the  experience  of  Mrs.  L.  R. 
James  we  read  the  signs  of  a  corrupt  age.  De- 
generacy reigns  in  the  cultured  and  wealthy 
circles  of  Woodville.  We  are  daily  facing  in  so- 
called  best  society  a  paganism  as  hooeless  and 
forbidding  as  Paul  met  in  his  missionary  tours 
nineteen  centuries  ago.  The  trend  of  thought, 
the  business  methods,  the  social  life,  the  natural 
affections,  and  the  moral  standards  of  the  col- 
lege and  the  brownstone  front  do    not    compare 


THE  PERIL  OF  THE  BROWNSTONE  FRONT.     253 

favorably  with  many  heathen  communities.  The 
religious  instincts  in  man  are  not  deader  in  the 
nomad  tribes  of  central  Africa  than  in  the  luxu- 
rious palaces  of  America.  Purity  cannot  grow  in 
cesspools,  and  honor  cannot  thrive  in  hotbeds  of 
hypocrisy.  The  gilded  gods  of  superficial  learn- 
ing and  the  shrines  of  mammon  must  be  buried 
under  the  heels  of  Christ  before  the  race  can  be 
redeemed." 

Then  the  preacher  paused,  and  taking  a  paper 
from  his  pocket  said,  "Current  literature  reeks 
with  putridity.  It  is  ever  poisoning  the  minds  of 
unthinking  millions  with  silly  and  disgusting 
errors;  yet,  in  the  light  of  this  fact,  we  may 
clearly  discover  that  the  'perilous  times'  foretold 
by  the  Apostle  have  come.  The  frequency  of 
these  errors  indicate  that  Christianity  is  disinte- 
grating, and  that  without  a  fundamental  and 
wide-spread  movement  back  to  Christ,  Christen- 
dom will  revert  in  fifty  years  to  heathenism  or 
infidelity.  Let  me  read,"  continued  the  speaker, 
"several  extracts,  all  taken  from  a  single  issue  of 
a  Chicago  daily."     Thus  he  read: 


THE  CITY  BREATHLESS  OVER  THE  RESULT. 

Excitement  and  interest  over  the  great  Jeffries- 
Johnson  fight  among  all  fashionable  circles  of  the 
city  were  unparalleled.  At  the  millionaire  club, 
nothing  was  discussed  in  the  smoke-room  except 
the  contest.     At  Oil  University  class  work  was 


254  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

suspended  for  an  hour  while  both  professors  and 
students  scanned  the  latest  telegrams  from  Reno. 
In  the  department  of  theology,  one  of  the  profes- 
sors took  occasion  to  say  to  his  pupils  that  the 
only  real  mind  is  that  of  man,  and  that  it  is  the 
end  of  man  to  contend  in  fair  and  honorable  bat- 
tle with  his  fellows  and  not  to  waste  his  energies 
in  fighting  a  fictitious  devil." 

NEWPORT  SOCIETY  BETS  ON  FIGHT. 

At  divine  service  last  evening,  three  ministers 
chose  as  the  themes  of  their  sermons  the  Jeffries- 
Johnson  fight.  The  superintendent  of  the  most 
fashionable  Sunday-school  in  the  city  prayed  that 
the  white  man  might  win.  Talk  of  the  fight  in 
the  most  exclusive  circles  took  precedence  at  all 
social  entertainments,  including  dances,  dinners, 
and  cards. 

Mrs.  Jacob  Hirsch,  who  gave  a  dinner  dance, 
had  "flash"  dispatches  of  the  fight,  and  lost  heav- 
ily, as  did  many  wealthy  ladies  who  bet  on 
Jeffries. 

THE  NEWEST  RELIGION. 

The  newest  place  of  worship  in  Chicago,  to  be 
erected  in  a  few  weeks  by  an  incorporated  group 
of  millionaire  sports  and  university  professors, 
will  be  known  as  the  "Church  of  Happiness."  The 
new  church  will  be  known  for  music,  merriment, 
laughter,  and  culture. 

The  old  hell  of  the  old  religion,  with  its  flam- 
ing fires,  its  dancing  imps  in  leather  hides  and 
hoofs,  its  catacombs  of  bones  and  dead  hopes,  its 
fumes  of  sulphur,  is  a  thing  of  the  past. 

The  new  religion  recognizes  that  crime  is 
hatched    where    there    is  no    mirth.     Depravity 


THE  PERIL  OF  THE  BROWNSTONE  FRONT.     255 

flourishes  in  the  shades  of  darkness.  Indiffer- 
ence to  unpleasant  things,  and  ecstasy  in  other 
things,  will  characterize  the  latest  faith.  There 
will  be  no  fear,  no  responsibility,  and  no  service 
except  such  as  redounds  to  one's  own  pleasure. 

This  unique  idea  originated  in  the  fertile  brain 
of  Prof.  Summers,  dean  of  theology  in  Oil  Uni- 
versity. The  professor  gives  as  the  reason  for 
the  new  creed  the  fact  that  people  don't  care  what 
the  Bible  teaches  any  more,  as  the  morality  of 
the  Scriptures  was  written  for  the  ancient  days. 
"Nobody,"  claims  he,  "has  ever  done  what  the 
Bible  says.  What  men  always  have  done,  if  they 
tried  to  do  right,  was  to  conform  to  the  morals  of 
the  group  and  the  time."  In  an  interview  with  our 
reporter,  Dr.  Summers  declared  that  Oil  Univer- 
sity had  discarded  Christianity,  and  that  its  re- 
ligious trend  was  now  Buddhistic.  He  asserted 
further  that  he  had  been  told  by  Hindoos  that 
the  great  obstacle  to  the  spread  of  Christianity 
in  their  country  was  the  puerility  of  our  dogma 
of  creation;  and  he  added  that  most  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  University  faculty  were  ready  to  side 
with  Hinduism  in  this  matter.  Dr.  Summers 
closed  the  interview  by  quoting  with  marked  ap- 
probation from  a  lecture  delivered  at  Manchester 
by  Professor  James,  as  follows :  "The  theological 
machinery  that  spoke  so  livingly  to  our  ancestors 
with  its  finite  age  of  the  world,  its  creation  out  of 
nothing,  its  juridicial  morality  and  eschatology, 
its  treatment  of  God  as  an  external  contriver,  an 
intelligent  and  moral  governor,  sounds  as  odd  to 
most  of  us  as  if  it  were  some  outlandish  savage 
religion." 


256  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

As  Mr.  Ernest  finished  his  sermon  laying  bare 
the  infidelity  of  many  colleges  and  the  corruption 
of  Woodville's  Smart  Set,  Corinne  experienced 
strange  and  sometimes  even  conflicting  emotions. 
She  had  given  her  energies  exclusively  to  the 
slums,  but  now  it  dawned  upon  her  mind — a  sick- 
ening, terrible  fact — that  at  her  very  doors  there 
lay  a  field  as  appalling,  as  depraved,  as  Christless 
and  as  needy  as  the  most  sin-cursed  sections  of 
Purgatory.  Two  vast  extremes,  widely  apart, 
but  equally  degenerate.  Marble  steps  had  ever 
proved  a  barrier  to  mission  effort,  and  were  never 
climbed  by  preachers,  save  John  Ernest,  except 
when  they  led  to  a  social  function  or  a  fine  dinner. 

Corinne  returned  to  her  home  dazed.  The  out- 
look was  dark ;  society  was  diseased ;  and  it  seem- 
ed to  her  that  as  mankind  prospers  in  material 
things,  unless  the  Bible  is  accepted  as  the  stand- 
ard of  morals,  the  race  degenerates  into  pagan- 
ism. Pondering  these  disagreeable  but  manifest 
truths  in  her  aching  heart,  she  resolved  to  be- 
come a  missionary,  for  a  month,  to  the  fashion- 
able circles  of  the  city. 

Miss  Howard  began  her  missionary  labors 
among  the  "four  hundred"  in  the  spirit  of  the 
Master.  She  gave  tracts  to  those  that  would  re- 
ceive them,  talked  to  others  of  Christ,  told  them 
of  his  love,  how  he  came  to  earth  to  save  the  lost, 
explained  the  meaning  of  repentance,  and  point- 


THE  PERIL  OF  THE  BROWNSTONE  FRONT      25T 

ed  to  the  awful  doom  of  all  that  obey  not  the  gos- 
pel of  God.  A  few  heard  her  story  and  promised 
amendment  of  life,  but  the  great  majority  laugh- 
ed at  the  message  she  brought,  and  scarcely  any 
had  a  just  conception  of  the  mission  of  the  Son  of 
God.  It  was  quite  true  that  occupants  of  the 
brownstone  fronts  generally,  in  part  at  least, 
were  members  of  fashionable  churches,  but  the 
idea  of  regeneration  was  to  them  the  shadowiest 
figment. 

The  faithful  worker,  weary  and  heartsick,  had 
well-nigh  concluded  her  loving  task  in  the  "up- 
per" circles  of  the  city,  when  she  painfully  re- 
membered one  home  she  felt  constrained  to  visit. 
That  home  was  on  the  most  beautiful  and  aristo- 
cratic avenue  of  Woodville.  And  the  most  charm- 
ing mansion  on  this  exquisite  boulevard  was  the 
residence  of  Major  Whitney,  the  railroad  mag- 
nate, whose  millions  stood  well  up  in  the  forties. 
As  Corinne  gazed  admiringly  on  the  splendid 
grounds  adorned  with  monuments  and  nude  stat- 
uary— the  grounds  being  the  object  of  her  admir- 
ation, not  the  statuary — she  hesitated.  That  pala- 
tial pile,  erected  at  a  cost  of  two  millions,  pro- 
duced misgivings  as  to  any  success  attending  her 
visit.  She  climbed  the  marble  steps  slowly  and 
rang  the  bell.  She  was  ushered  into  a  parlor 
which  was  a  bower  of  beauty  and  elegance.  She 
beheld  beveled  mirrors  reaching  to  the  ceiling,  pic- 


258  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

tures  purchased  from  the  great  galleries  of  Euro- 
pean capitals  at  fabulous  prices,  and  costly  curios 
gathered  from  all  lands;  and  as  she  scanned  this 
rich  display  of  wealth,  she  could  but  wonder 
whether  mammon  had  shut  Christ  out  of  this 
princely  home. 

When  Mrs.  Whitney  entered,  her  fingers  flash- 
ing with  diamonds,  a  necklace  of  pearls  hanging 
nearly  to  her  waist,  and  her  Parisian  dress  rust- 
ling the  praises  of  the  modiste,  Corinne  could  but 
recall  Arnold's  lines, 

"What  lady  is  this,  whose  silk  attire, 
Gleams  so  rich  in  the  light  of  the  fire?" 

The  high  priestess  of  the  social  circle  took  her 
seat  in  a  silk  plush  rocker,  asking  indifferently, 
"Miss  Howard,  what  will  you  have?" 

"Mrs.  Whitney,"  said  Corinne.  "I  want  you." 
"Beg  pardon,  I  don't  understand  you,  Miss." 
"Then,  let  me  explain.  You  perhaps  know  that 
Mr.  Ernest,  our  pastor,  is  striving  to  reinstate 
the  Christianity  of  Christ  in  Woodville,  and  that 
he  has  met,  in  spite  of  formidable  opposition,  suc- 
cess among  all  classes  except  our  most  fashion- 
able people.  He  is  now  making  an  effort  to  evan- 
gelize those  who  have  most  influence  in  our  social 
life.  He  thinks  that  if  our  leading  citizens  can 
be  won  to  the  cross,  the  cause  of  a  pure  religion 
will  triumph  in  Woodville." 


THE  PERIL  OP  THE  BROWNSTONE  FRONT.     L'59 


"Why,  Miss  Howard,  you  surprise  me,"  said  the 
rich  woman  with  ill-disguised  impatience.  "You 
surely  have  come  to  the  wrong  place.  I  am  a 
Christian,  and  have  been  one  all  my  life.  Of 
course  I  do  not  hold  to  Mr.  Ernest's  vagaries — 
poor  man,  he  is  really  crazy." 

"Mrs.  Whitney,  do  you  think  Jesus  was  crazy?" 

"Well,  not  just  that,  but  I  think  he  was  imprac- 
tical. He  taught  many  things  that  nobody  can 
obey." 

"I  had  not  thought  so;  will  you  please  name 
one  of  them?" 

"Well,  he  says  that  we  should  forsake  all  and 
follow  him.  That  is  impossible.  It  is  unreason- 
able to  expect  us  to  put  the  dark,  dim,  distant 
Kingdom  of  God  first  when  there  is  so  much  that 
appeals  to  us  in  quite  a  different  line.  Persons 
who  have  not  the  ability  to  gratify  their  longings, 
may  not  understand  me,  but  to  those  who  have, 
the  world  offers  attractions  the  church  knows 
nothing  of." 

Corinne  sighed  and  replied,  "I  have  tried  both, 
and  the  joy  of  serving  Christ  is  the  greatest  I 
have  ever  known." 

"Yes,  Miss  Howard,  your  means,  I  presume, 
are  limited;  you  do  not  really  know  what  the 
world  is,  nor  the  sweetness  of  its  pleasures.  Your 
joys  consist  largely  in  attending  prayer-meetings 
and  funerals,  whereas  mine    are    more    rational 


260  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

and  hence  more  natural.  For  instance,  when  I 
am  out  riding  in  my  auto,  the  companionship  of 
my  French  bulldog  gives  me  exquisite  pleasure. 
Poor  little  fellow,  he  ought  to,  for  he  cost  me  a 
round  $7,000.  Then,  when  I  am  shut  in,  I  have 
my  divine  Tom,  whose  noble  pedigree  goes  back  a 
hundred  years  to  the  purest  Maltese  stock.  You 
have  a  missionary  society,  while  I  give  a  cat 
party  to  which  all  of  Tom's  friends  are  invited, 
each  plate  costing  $20,  and  served  by  the  best  ca- 
terers. Then,"  continued  Mrs.  Whitney,  flush- 
ing, "I  have  other  pleasures  that  the  church  does 
not  approve,  which,  nevertheless,  are  intense  and 
human." 

Corinne  perceived  that  Mrs.  Whitney  was 
about  to  reveal  something,  and,  like  a  physician 
who  wishes  to  discover  the  disease  in  order  to 
apply  the  remedy,  she  adroitly  asked,  "My  dear 
madam,  be  kind  enough  to  tell  me  what  legitimate 
pleasures  the  church  condemns?" 

"Legitimate!"  exclaimed  the  queen  of  Wood- 
ville's  society,  and  then  broke  out  into  a  burst  of 
laughter.  "Why,  it  meddles  with  the  affairs  of 
our  hearts,  and  places  a  guard  over  our  con- 
sciences." 

Corinne,  observing  the  evident  embarrassment 
of  the  rich  woman,  said,  in  a  reassuring  manner, 
"Mrs.  Whitney,  you  may  confide  in  me  or  not  as 
you  please,  but  will  you  permit  me  to  inquire — Is 


THE  PERIL  OF  THE  BROWNSTONE  FRONT      261 

there  not  some  great  secret  in  your  life?" 

"Miss  Howard,  your  character  inspires  confi- 
dence, yet  there  is  a  mysterious  fascination  about 
some  secrets  which  departs  when  a  third  party  is 
admitted.  I  am  free  to  say  that  I  shall  divulge  a 
part  only  of  my  hidden  life  to  you.  I  have  long 
since  desired  to  converse  with  some  reliable  per- 
son on  the  subject,  and  I  hope  I  shall  not  annoy 
you." 

Corinne  assured  the  woman  that  she  would  be 
pleased  to  hear  whatever  she  saw  fit  to  state,  and 
would  render  her  any  help  possible. 

"Well,  this  is  my  story — you  would  say  wicked, 
I  say  romantic.  Some  years  ago,  at  a  public  ball, 
intimacies  began  between  another  and  myself, 
which  later  ripened  into  spiritual  harmonies. 
(Corinne  threw  up  her  hands  in  horror).  When 
Major  Whitney  and  I  were  married,  he  knew 
nothing  of  this,  and  does  not  know  now." 

"You  should  inform  him  at  once!"  interrupted 
Corinne  with  a  degree  of  impatience  not  hitherto 
manifested. 

"No,"  calmly  answered  Mrs.  Whitney.  "The 
Major  has  his  harmonies  too,  but  has  never  men- 
tioned the  matter. to  me.  When  we  were  married, 
he  admired  me  for  my  vivacity  and  looks;  I  was 
attracted  by  his  fortune.  There  was  never  any 
high,  holy  love  between  us,  only  an  adaptation  of 
beauty  to  gold.     Of  course  we  drifted  apart.     He 


262  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

became  infatuated  with  another,  while  I,  on  my 
part,  found  my  affinity.  I  believe  the  same  stand- 
ard should  apply  to  the  man  as  to  the  woman,  for 
both  of  us  are  living  double  lives.  Society  does 
not  condemn  him,  nor  should  it  me." 

"But  if  society  were  Christian,  it  would  con- 
demn you  both.  There  should  be  the  same  moral 
standard  for  both  sexes,  not  with  a  view  of  put- 
ting the  woman  on  an  equality  with  the  man,  but 
of  putting  the  man  on  an  equality  with  the  wo- 
man. In  otner  words,  when  guilty  of  the  same  of- 
fense, both  sexes  should  be  held  equally  responsi- 
ble at  the  bar  of  public  opinion." 

"Now,  Miss  Howard,  I  did  not  ask  for  a  ser- 
mon, but  was  just  telling  you  in  a  rather  incoher- 
ent way  a  bit  of  my  personal  history." 

"Very  well,"  said  Corinne;  "I  shall  not  inter- 
rupt you  again ;  for  I  assure  you,  I  feel  quite  in- 
terested in  your  life-story.' 

"As  I  was  going  to  say,  wedlock  does  not  mean 
to  us  what  it  does  to  Grand  Avenue  Church  since 
Mr.  Ernest  remodeled  its  moral  code.  No,  we 
have  grown  larger,  freer,  and  allow  greater  fami- 
liarity between  the  sexes.  The  passions  are  per- 
mitted to  have  fuller  scope.  There's  a  place  for 
the  charm  of  an  affinity.  The  marriage  tie  is 
binding  only  so  long  as  pleasant  and  convenient. 
Inasmuch  as  the  home  is  in  somewhat  unstable 
equilibrium,  our  best  society  does  not  wish  to  be 


THE  PERIL  OF  THE  BROWNSTONE  FRONT.     263 


encumbered  with  children.  I  discover,  Miss  How- 
ard, that  you  shudder.  But  be  patient.  I  notice 
that  my  mind  is  wandering,  but  I  think  I  can  give 
you  the  reason  for  our  objection  to  families.  Let 
me  take  my  medicine  first."  Here  the  leader  of 
fashion  swallowed  her  dope,  and  then  resumed 
her  rambling    story    with    increased    animation. 

"Yes,  I  believe  we  were  talking  about  children. 
We  are  just  too  busy  to  have  them.  They  increase 
the  burdens  of  the  home,  without  adding  to  its 
pleasure.  We  must  have  some  ease  and  a  little 
rest,  you  know,  for  we  are  constantly  giving  and 
attending  functions.  The  formalities  of  fashion 
are  so  exacting  that  we  have  not  time  for  the 
rearing  of  children.  And  then  since  it  is  always 
uncertain  how  long  we  shall  keep  our  husbands, 
we  naturally  regard  offspring  as  a  handicap.  We 
prefer  poodles,  cats,  canaries,  and — affinities. 
Children  are  in  the  way — I'm  sure  you  under- 
stand. We  would  rather  be  sweethearts  than 
wives. 

"And  besides,"  continued  the  magnate's  consort, 
taking  another  white  pellet,  "there  are  elaborate 
entertainments  which  all  wealthy  people  are  ex- 
pected to  give;  and  these  require  all  the  time  and 
care  we  can  bestow.  A  successful  function  is  the 
acme  of  social  ambition,  while  to  fail  is  to  die  on 
the  altar  of  fashion.    I  wish  to  read  you  the  ac- 


264  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

count  in  this  morning's    paper   of    my    splendid 
function  given  last  evening: 

BAREFOOT  DANCE  AT  MRS.  WHITNEY'S. 

Countess  Camura  de  Gwishky  danced  bare- 
foot last  night  before  Woodville  society  at  the 
most  remarkable  private  entertainment  of  the 
season.  When  the  company  before  which  she  ap- 
peared had  indorsed  by  rapturous  applause  the 
verdict  of  Arcturo  Tuscanino,  that  the  Countess 
has  the  most  beautiful  musical  body  in  the  world, 
she  made  her  acknowledgments  by  performing 
on  the  piano  Rochmanihoff's  famous  prelude  as 
only  a  virtuoso  can  do,  to  the  further  amaze- 
ment and  delight  of  her  select  audience. 

Mrs.  Haraldine  Whitney  gave  society  this  op- 
portunity to  enjoy  the  gifts  of  the  Russian  titled 
visitor.  There  were  two  hundred  invitations  and 
nearly  all  the  leaders  of  society  attended.  Mrs. 
Whitney  built  a  ball-room  for  the  occasion,  over- 
looked by  the  galleries  of  the  second  floor  of  her 
cottage  and  by  the  windows  of  other  rooms 
where  the  guests  sat.  The  decorations  were  of 
oak  branches,  studded  with  American  Beauty 
roses  and  lilies,  that  scheme  prevailing  all  over 
the  stage,  even  under  the  porte-cochere. 

The  Countess  bounded  in  upon  this  scene  to 
the  stirring  measures  of  Dvorak's  "Russian 
Dance"  and  thrilled  the  spectators  with  her 
whole-hearted  abandon.  Her  dress  was  scant  and 
diaphanous,  but  the  rhythmic  figure  chained  all 
attention.  Next  she  presented  a  scene  from  her 
favorite  "Tanagra,"  in    which    grace    and    spirit 


THE  PERIL  OP  THE  BROWNSTONE  FRONT.     265 

combined  to  produce  the  poetry  of  motion.     Her 
piano-playing  followed  the  dance. 

After  this  introduction  she  will  probably  ap- 
pear at  other  private  entertainments  and  also  in 
public.  Mrs.  Whitney  has  invited  the  actress  to 
repeat  the  entertainment  next  Sunday  evening, 
the  proceeds  to  be  given  to  charity. 


When  the  rich  woman  laid  down  the  paper,  she 
was  overcome  by  stupor,  and  threw  her  head 
back  in  her  cushioned  chair,  gently  nodding. 

Corinne  arose  to  take  her  leave,  and  aroused 
Mrs.  Whitney,  who  sprang  to  her  feet,  the  cen- 
tral figure  of  Woodville's  gilded  paganism,  saying 
confusedly,  "Miss  Howard,  I  think  I  spoke  to  you 
of  my  divine  affinity;  here  he  is." 

And  Mrs.  Whitney  drew  from  her  bosom  a  pic- 
ture of  Mason  Saunders. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

"SOCIETY  IS  PAGAN/" 

The  Reform  movement  swept  over  Woodville 
like  a  great  moral  conflagration,  consuming  the 
idols  of  a  veneered  society  and  destroying  the 
hiding  places  of  vice.  This  proved  what  Chris- 
tianity can  do  in  a  town  when  those  who  profess 
it  simply  become  Christians. 

In  good  soil,  the  Gospel  seed  that  John  Ernest 
had  been  sowing  were  taking  deep  root.  It  was 
"Commencement"  week  at  Woodville  College  and 
the  evening  on  which  the  annual  ball  took  place. 
This  function  given  in  honor  of  the  graduating 
class,  had  for  years  been  esteemed  the  one  crown- 
ing event  of  the  season.  No  pains  were  spared 
to  make  it  a  brilliant  success,  no  efforts  were 
wanting  to  attract  the  elite  of  the  city.  The  great 
College  hall  became  *the  trysting  place  where  the 
belles  of  Woodville  displayed  their  beauty;  fash- 
ionable women,  their  wardrobe;  and  wealthy  Ve- 
nuses  their  jewelry.  Society  girls  vied  with  one 
another  in  the  elaborateness  of  their  costumes, 
the  splendor  of  their  diamonds,  and  the  witchery 
of  their  coquetry.  The  professors'  wives,  to- 
gether with  the  most  fashionable  ladies  in     the 


Maud  Blalock,  entering  the  room  leaning  on  her  father's  arm,  was 
the  cynosure  of  all  admiring  eyes. 


"SOCIETY  IS  PAGAN!"  269 

town,  were  patronesses,  so  that  to  be  absent  was 
to  suffer  a  social  eclipse.  The  music  for  the 
dances  was  furnished  by  a  New  York  orchestra, 
while  the  college  Mandolin  Club  gave  entertain- 
ment between  sets.  The  refreshments  were 
abundant,  the  service  elegant,  and  the  orgies 
often  continued  till  the  light  of  day. 

The  Mandolin  Club  was  dispensing  its  gayest 
strains  amid  the  dazzling  blaze  of  electric  lamps, 
when  Maud  Blalock  walked  into  the  college  hall. 
Her  handsome  figure  and  graceful  bearing  elicit- 
ed comment  on  every  side.  A  number  of  the 
graduate  students  at  once  approached,  and  re- 
quested the  honor  of  a  dance  with  her  during  the 
evening,  while  admirers  from  the  city  were  not 
slow  in  pressing  a  like  suit.  Miss  Blalock  would 
have  been  the  center  of  attraction  in  any  group 
of  women.  Tall,  graceful,  intelligent,  beautiful, 
she  was,  in  every  way,  a  charming  personality. 
Conversation  lulled  as  she,  with  the  rhythm  of  the 
music,  moved  across  the  ball-room  floor  leaning 
lightly  on  her  father's  arm,  the  cynosure  of  all 
admiring  eyes.  She  was  confessedly  the  most 
splendidly  attired  and  the  most  beautiful  woman 
at  the  ball;  and  naturally  her  acquaintance  had 
been  sought  by  every  aspiring  young  gentle- 
man in  Woodville,  while  a  score  of  wealthy  and 
brilliant  suitors  had  laid  their  hearts  on  the  altar 
of  Cupid. 


270  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

Edward  Preston,  son  of  the  president  of  the 
College,  and  the  valedictorian  in  a  large  class  of 
graduates,  claimed  the  first  waltz  with  Miss  Bla- 
lock.  Young  Preston  was  fine-looking  rather 
than  handsome,  and  was  considered  by  the  facul- 
ty as  one  of  the  most  gifted  students  ever  en- 
rolled in  the  institution.  As  the  orchestra  sound- 
ed the  first  note  of  the  waltz,  half  a  hundred 
couples,  locked  in  close  embrace,  swung  around 
the  room,  with  the  flash  of  cold  diamonds  with- 
out, and  the  surging  of  heated  blood  within.  The 
wild  maze  continued  until  the  heads  of  giddy 
dancers  swam,  and  their  bodies  staggered  from 
exhaustion.  At  length  the  weird  whirl  ceased, 
with  Maud's  head  resting  on  Edward  Preston's 
bosom.  She  seemed  to  be  dreaming — where  was 
she?  What  was  she  doing?  Would  she  like  to 
analyze  the  feelings  that  had  been  aroused  ?  What 
did  it  all  mean?  Then  she  remembered  John 
Ernest's  burning  words.  "The  round  dance  is  im- 
moral"— the  dream  broke,  the  vision  faded,  she 
knew  something,  she  sat  down.  The  trembling 
girl,  smitten  by  the  thongs  of  an  upbraiding  con- 
science, glanced  over  the  spacious  room.  The  peo- 
ple that  stood  highest  in  Woodville  were  not 
there.  She  stared  at  the  Bacchanalians,  and  among 
them  recognized  Major  Spook,  the  public  violator 
of  the  Sabbath ;  Mr.  Stuart,  the  banker,  who  uni- 
ted with  the  church   without   conviction;    Mason 


"SOCIETY    IS    PAGAN!" 


271 


Saunders,  who  had  dishonored  his  church  rela- 
tions; the  sons  of  the  unscrupulous  editor  of  the 
"Echo";  and  Mr.  Bowen,  champion  of  unclean 
art.  Why  was  not  Dr.  Foster,  the  most  skilled 
physician  in  the  city,  there?  Why  were  not  the 
sons  and  daughters  of  Senator  Kent,  Mayor  Joe 
Peterson,  and  Judge  Castleberry,  there?  Why 
was  not  Corinne  Howard,  the  brightest  ornament 
in  the  social  life  of  Woodville,  there?  Why  was 
she,  Maud  Blalock,  there?  Again,  she  glanced  at 
the  revellers — she  noted,  as  never  before,  the 
coarse,  carnal  faces  of  the  men,  the  immodest  cos- 
tumes of  the  women;  and  within  herself  she  said 
Mr.  Ernest  is  right — Society  is  Pagan!  She  can- 
celled twenty  engagements  for  dances,  and  re- 
tired from  the  ball-room.  Her  father  being  a 
trustee  of  the  College,  remained. 

Maud  Blalock  took  a  carriage,  ordering  the 
coachman  to  stop  at  Grand  Avenue  Church.  She 
leaned  back  upon  the  heavy  upholstering,  bowed 
her  head,  and  wept.  She  felt  as  a  criminal,  steal- 
ing from  the  place  of  her  misdoing.  She  had  for- 
gotten her  most  sacred  vows  to  follow  Christ,  and 
had  become  a  stumbling-block  in  the  way  of  sin- 
ners. Loving  the  world  and  the  things  of  the 
world,  her  soul  had  lost  its  highest  joy.  She  had 
voluntarily  placed  herself  in  the  vortex  of  ruin; 
her  most  delicate  sensibilities  had  been  blunted; 
she  had  done  violence  to  the  holy  instincts  of  her 


272  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

sex — the  purity  of  womanhood  had  been  soiled. 
She  wrung  her  hands  in  agony,  and  her  lips  quiv- 
ered in  prayer.  The  coach  stopped,  and  the  peni- 
tent girl  entered  the  lecture-room  of  Grand  Ave- 
nue Church. 

It  was  prayer-meeting  night,  and  the  delight- 
ful service  had  drawn  to  a  close,  after  having  ex- 
tended more  than  half  an  hour  beyond  the  usual 
limit.  John  Ernest  was  just  rising  to  pronounce 
the  benediction,  as  Maud  Blalock,  with  undis- 
guised agitation,  went  rapidly  forward,  and  faced 
the  congregation.  Her  cheeks  were  deeply  crim- 
soned, her  eyes  wet  with  tears,  her  lips  tremulous. 
As  the  beautiful  girl  stood  there,  arrayed  in  her 
magnificent  ball  costume,  her  bosom  and  hands 
blazing  with  diamonds,  before  the  saintliest  peo- 
ple in  Woodville,  by  her  side  the  most  spiritual 
minister  in  the  State,  the  situation,  in  its  con- 
trasts, shadings,  and  even  contradictions,  was 
indeed  most  weird.  Maud  tried  to  speak,  but 
choked;  she  made  a  second  effort,  but  again 
speech  fled.  At  length,  she  knelt  down  and  hid 
her  face,  while  the  congregation,  thrilled  as  by 
the  touch  of  God,  sang 

"Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea, 
But  that  thy  blood  was  shed  for  me, 
And  that  thou  bidd'st  me  come  to  thee, 
0  Lamb  of  God,  I  come!" 


"SOCIETY    IS    PAGAN!" 


273 


When  two  hundred  subdued    voices    rendered 
the  last  stanza, 

"Just  as  I  am, — thy  love  unknown, 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down : 
Now  to  be  thine,  yea,  thine  alone, 
0  Lamb  of  God,  I  come!" 


Maud  rose  to  her  feet,  and  in  broken  utterance 
said,  "Those  lines  express  my  inmost  yearning;  I 
wish  to  be  Christ's  and  Christ's  alone.  I  have  ask- 
ed my  Father's  forgiveness,  and  now  I  want  to 
ask  yours.  I  have  sought  my  society  outside  of 
the  church,  and,  in  consequence,  have  had  my  re- 
ligious life  darkened.  I  attended  the  College  ball 
this  evening,  anticipating  peculiar  pleasure;  but 
while  I  was  dancing  a  waltz,  my  conscience  was 
awakened,  and  I  discovered  the  shame  of  the 
dance,  and  the  utter  barrenness  of  society.  I  felt 
that  my  heart  would  break  unless  I  came  at  once 
here  and  confessed  my  sin.  I  love  my  Saviour,  I 
love  my  church;  and  henceforth  I  shall  renounce 
the  world's  frosted  society,  and  seek  my  service 
and  happiness  in  Christian  fellowship  alone.  Be- 
lieve me,  as  I  stand  before  God,  I  promise  my  pas- 
tor and  my  brethren  that  I  shall  never  enter  a 
ball-room  again." 

As  Maud  sat  down,  a  lady  in  the  rear  of  the 


274  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

room,  the  wife  of  a  leading  merchant  in  Wood- 
ville,  rose,  and  said  with  great  modesty :  "If  the 
pastor  will  pardon  me,  I  should  like  to  make  a 
statement,  which  I  think  it  would  be  wrong,  under 
the  circumstances,  to  suppress.  I  have  been  long 
concerned  on  the  subject  of  religion,  but  have  had 
grave  doubts  respecting  its  reality.  I  have  fallen 
into  a  habit,  all  too  common,  of  looking  at  other 
people's  faults  rather  than  my  own.  I  have  seen 
Christians  and  sinners  so  blended  in  their  social 
life  that  I  was  unable  to  distinguish  between 
them.  The  church  and  the  world,  so  far  as  I 
could  discern,  loved  the  same  pleasures,  engaged 
in  the  same  pursuits,  lived  the  same  life,  without 
any  line  of  demarkation  separating  them.  I  have 
desired  for  years  to  unite  with  the  church,  but  I 
did  not  take  the  step  for  the  reason  that  it  seemed 
to  offer  no  help  in  leading  a  better  life.  I  found 
myself  arguing  this  way :  Christians  claim  to  be 
born  again,  to  be  the  children  of  God,  and  under 
the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  yet,  in  actual  life, 
they  do  not  appear  to  be  superior  to  other  people 
who  seek  to  be  respectable.  I  naturally  doubted 
the  work  and  the  influence  of  the  Spirit  in  the 
human  soul;  for,  persons  whom  I  knew,  were  as 
unselfish,  as  honorable,  and  as  pure  as  those  who 
claim  the  gifts  and  graces  of  the  Comforter.  My 
faith  in  the  Christian  religion  was  shaken.  I  said, 
It  does  not  really  make  its  followers  better  any 


"SOCIETY    IS    PAGAN!"  275 

more  than  does  a  reading-club,  or  a  debating-so- 
ciety, or  a  sewing-circle.  But  recently  I  heard 
Mr.  Ernest's  sermon  on  Christian  society,  which 
so  fully  coincided  with  my  views  of  the  Saviour's 
teaching,  that  the  church  has  appeared  to  me  in  a 
new  light;  and  I  came  here  this  evening  to  find 
out  how  the  pastor's  views  were  working  in  his 
own  congregation.  I  knew  that  this  is  the  night 
both  for  the  prayer-service  and  also  for  the  Col- 
lege ball;  and  I  was  anxious  to  ascertain  which 
offers  the  greater  attraction  to  Christians,  prayer 
or  the  dance.  My  faith  was  strengthened  when 
I  beheld  here  the  best  people  in  all  the  city.  But 
I  came  to  a  positive  decision  to  confess  Christ, 
only  when  Miss  Blalock  entered  the  meeting  and 
renounced  the  pleasures  of  wicked  society.  I  now 
believe  that  the  Spirit  of  God  does  what  the 
world  cannot  do,  what  the  unaided  soul  cannot 
do,  gives  victory  over  sin.    T  wish  the  young  lady 

to  know  that  the  stand  I  now  take  for  Christ  and 
the  church,  is  due  to  her  testimony." 

Maud  Blalock,  in  diamonds  and  illusion,  walked 
to  the  back  of  the  room  and  knelt  by  the  lady  who 
had  just  spoken;  and  there  was  unbroken  silence 
till  from  walls  and  ceiling  rang  the  music  of  that 
stirring  hymn, 


276  THE    BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

"Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds 
Our  hearts  in  Christian  love ; 

The  fellowship  of  kindred  minds 
Is  like  to  that  above." 

When  Maud  reached  home,  she  went  into  the 
drawing-room,  and  gathering  up  a  dozen  packs 
of  cards,  which  had  just  been  purchased  for  an 
evening  of  progressive  euchre,  to  which  her  fash- 
ionable friends  had  been  invited,  she  cast  them 
into  the  kitchen  range,  and  watched  them 
blacken  and  smoulder  to  ashes.  Then  she  took  a 
course  of  theatre-tickets,  and  having  subjected 
them  to  the  same  destructive  process,  retired.  It 
had  been  an  evening  of  revolution  in  the  life  of 
Maud  Blalock.  The  last  tie  that  bound  her  to  the 
world  was  now  broken.  Her  soul  had  escaped 
from  the  snare  of  carnal  society,  and  henceforth 
she  would  seek  no  fellowship  out  of  the  fold  of  the 
redeemed.  The  church  hereafter  would  mean 
more  than  it  ever  had  meant  to  her ;  Christianity 
would  control  her  life  and  shape  her  plans,  and 
furnish  her  amusements.  She  had  taken  the  step 
that  subordinated  the  world  to  Christ,  and  had 
her  first  experience  in  the  supreme  joy  of  conse- 
cration and  in  the  full  triumph  of  faith.  She  re- 
solved to  revoke  at  once  the  invitations  to  the 
euchre-party,  and  never  again  to  consent  to  the 
introduction  of  anything  unchristian  into  her 
home.     So  resolving,  she  fell  asleep. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

MAUD  BLALOCK  REVOLUTIONIZES  HER  HOME. 

When  Maud  appeared  next  morning  at  break- 
fast, Mr.  Blalock  very  naturally  asked  an  ex- 
planation of  her  strange  disappearance  from  the 
dancing-hall. 

"Father,"  answered  the  newly  awakened  girl, 
"I  wish  never  to  recall  the  College  ball  except  as 
a  deformed  memory.  I  am  a  member  of  the 
church,  and  yet  I  have  been  living  as  a  pagan. 
My  Christian  character  has  suffered  from  sinful 
associations;  but,  from  this  time  on,  I  shall  give 
my  energies  to  the  church,  and  seek  companion- 
ship only  in  religious  circles.  I  have  accepted  Mr. 
Ernest's  interpretation  of  society,  and  shall 
henceforth  conform  my  relations  to  it.  Since  my 
decision,  I  have  become  so  much  happier  than  I 
ever  was  before.  How  completely  I  have  been 
blinded  by  the  god  of  this  world !  But  the  leaden 
scales  have  fallen  from  my  eyes,  and  now  I  see.  I 
never  knew  until  just  recently  what  the  Apostle 
meant  by  'joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.'  " 
And  her  face  brightened  as  she  spoke  these 
words. 


278  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

"But,  Maud,"  said  her  father  gravely,  "don't 
you  know  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  distinct- 
ive Christian  society?" 

"And,  yet,  Father,  Mr.  Ernest  claims  that  the 
church,  as  established  by  Jesus,  was  just  such  a 
society." 

"But,  my  daughter,  that  is  far  from  being  the 
case  now." 

"Then,  Father,  the  church  has  become  false  to 
its  high  mission ;  and  it  is  the  duty  of  every  Chris- 
tian to  make  untiring  efforts  to  restore  primitive 
conditions." 

"My  darling  child,  this  is  but  another  of  our 
pastor's  visionary  theories.  And  when  we  see  a 
social  fabric,  which  has  been  slowly  and  strongly 
woven  through  ages  of  human  progress,  recog- 
nized by  pulpit  and  pew  alike,  and  by  all  the  great 
literatures  of  the  world,  and  further,  upheld  by 
orators,  scholars,  and  statesmen,  we  should  be 
slow  to  reject  it." 

"True,  Father;  and  T  Have  been  very  slow  to 
take  a  stand.  I  have  considered  well  the  argu- 
ments you  present.  But  has  human  progress 
been  so  great  along  social  lines?  It  seems  to  me 
that  what  is  recognized  as  society,  is,  as  Mr. 
Ernest  says,  but  gilded  paganism.  Its  standards 
are  low,  and  even  false.  Its  measure  is  gold,  its 
crown  is  fashion,  its  end  is  pleasure,  and  its  ideals 
are  misshapen,  and  the  world's  literature  that  up- 


MAUD  BLALOCK  REVOLUTIONIZES  HER  HOME.  279 

holds  it  is  not  equal  to  the  literature  of  the  Bible 
that  condemns  it.  And  what  are  the  orators, 
scholars  and  statesmen  compared  with  the  pro- 
phets and  apostles,  and,  above  all,  our  divine 
Saviour?" 

Feeling  the  force  of  his  daughter's  logic,  Mr. 
Blalock  did  not  attempt  a  refutation,  but  replied 
wearily:  "My  dear  girl,  I  fear  you  are  the  dupe 
of  a  visionary  minister  who  has  planted  his  theo- 
logical feet  on  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  dream." 

"Mr.  Ernest  visionary,  Father?  Why,  he  is  the 
most  practical  preacher  in  Woodville.  He  has 
transformed  Purgatory,  broken  the  saloon  power, 
is  now  'reforming  Grand  Avenue  Church,  and 
making  all  classes  of  our  people  think.  Father, 
let's  become  visionaries." 

"Maud,  do  you  mean  that  you  are  going  out 
of  society?" 

"Oh,  no,  Father;  I  mean  that  I  am  going  into 
society ;  for  I  believe  the  church  alone  can  furnish 
proper  social  relations." 

"I  wish,  Daughter,  you  would  explain  this  new 
notion  about  society.  I  confess  I  can't  get  hold 
of  it,  somehow." 

"Well,  I  understand  Mr.  Ernest  to  mean  that 
Christians  ought  not  to  be  worldly;  hence,  they 
should  not  seek  their  amusements  in  institutions 
controlled  by  worldly  principles.  Their  ideals, 
joys,    and  work    should    be    determined    by  the 


280  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

Scriptures  alone.  They  should  live  totally  differ- 
ent lives  from  the  unsaved;  they  should  work 
among  the  wicked  but  have  companionship 
among  the  righteous.  They  should  form  a  so- 
ciety entirely  separate  from  the  ungodly.  There 
should  be  an  unmistakable  line  of  demarkation 
between  worldly  and  Christian  fellowship;  that 
it  is  the  church's  mission  to  destroy  worldly 
society  as  much  as  idolatry,  since  both  are  equally 
hostile  to  the  cause  of  Christ." 

"According  to  this  theory,  then,  Christians 
would  have  to  give  up  the  card-party,  the  dance, 
the  theatre,  and  the  wine-dinner;"  said  Mr.  Bla- 
lock,  thoughtfully. 

"My  dear  Father,  what  is  it  for  a  redeemed  soul 
to  give  up  such  things  ?  Can  a  Christian,  indulging 
in  such  amusements,  exert  any  really  wholesome 
influence?  Now,  Father,  won't  you  and  mother," 
asked  Maud  in  a  low,  pleading  voice,  looking  at 
each  in  turn,  "accept  Christ's  ideas  of  society,  and 
help  me  to  shun  in  the  future  all  injurious  asso- 
ciations, while  we  all  endeavor  to  make  our  home 
in  every  sense  Christian?" 

Mr.  Blalock  remained  silent  some  moments,  for 
he  was  confused.  He  claimed  to  be  a  Christian; 
hence,  Maud's  request  to  make  the  home  Chris- 
tian, presented  to  his  mind  a  self-evident  propo- 
sition; yet,  it  involved  so  much.  He  thought  to 
himself,  Why  should  not  a  Christian  be  a  Chris- 


MAUD  BLALOCK  REVOLUTIONIZES  HER  HOME.  281 

tian?  Maud,  discovering  her  parent's  embar- 
rassment, quietly  arose,  and  taking  a  seat  in  his 
lap,  tenderly  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
passionately  sobbed.. 

Mr.  Blalock,  looking  into  the  beautiful  face  of 
his  daughter,  down  whose  crimson  cheeks  the 
hot  tears  coursed,  said  brokenly,  with  an  attempt 
at  pleasantry,  "Maud,  since  you  have  become  an 
apostle  of  reform,  I  do  hereby  give  and  bequeath 
to  you  the  liberty  to  make  our  home  in  every 
sense  Christian,  according  to  your  conception  of 
the  will  of  Christ.  You  may  bring  into  it  what- 
ever will  prove  helpful,  or  remove  from  it  what- 
ever is  objectionable — though  it  be  your  mother 
and  myself." 

Maud  took  her  father  at  his  word,  and  at  once 
began  her  reformatory  measures.  Breakfast 
over,  she  laid  a  Bible  at  Mr.  Blalock's  plate,  say- 
ing, "Father,  let  our  first  step  be  to  erect  the 
family  altar,  and  ask  the  blessing  of  God  upon 
our  home." 

He  held  the  Bible  in  his  hand  in  evident  con- 
fusion and  surprise.  He  had  never  offered  prayer 
in  his  home,  and  naturally  was  awkward  in  mak- 
ing a  beginning.  After  reading  the  twenty-third 
Psalm,  Mr.  Blalock  led  his  family  in  a  brief,  yet 
ernest  petition  to  the  throne  of  grace.  Maud 
showed  her  appreciation  by  again  embracing  her 
father. 


282  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

The  next  care  of  this  consecrated  girl  was, 
with  glad  heart,  to  purify  the  social  atmosphere 
of  her  home.  She  went  into  the  library,  closely 
investigating  the  moral  bearing  of  each  object 
therein.  Over  the  mantel  hung  an  oil  painting  of 
Washington  at  a  ball,  highly  valued,  not  only  be- 
cause of  its  excellence  as  a  work  of  art,  its  his- 
toric associations,  and  its  great  age,  but  especially 
because  it  had  long  been  an  heirloom  in  the  Bla- 
lock  family.  By  virtuosos,  this  masterpiece  had 
been  placed  at  five  thousand  dollars.  Maud  stood 
before  the  splendid  painting,  gazing  intently  at  it 
with  mingled  emotions.  Her  father  esteemed  it 
beyond  price ;  the  library  furnishings  would  suffer 
from  its  loss ;  and  yet,  when  she  once  entertained 
a  strong  misgiving  as  to  the  propriety  of  the 
dance,  it  was  this  stately  picture  that  decided 
her  in  favor  of  that  amusement.  She  reasoned 
that  if  Washington  and  Lady  Washington,  to- 
gether with  the  most  honored  and  distinguished 
characters  in  American  history,  engaged  in  danc- 
ing, it  could  not  be  wrong  for  her  to  follow  their 
example.  As  she  realized  the  influence  of  the 
merry  scene  upon  her  life,  her  conscience  burn- 
ing with  a  sense  of  shame,  she  exclaimed,  "Away ! 
ye  wicked  great  who, 

"In  this  masquerade  of  mirth  and  love, 

Mistook  the  bliss  of  heaven  for  bacchanals  above." 


MAUD  BLALOCK  REVOLUTIONIZES  HER  HOME.  283 

Then,  leaving  the  frame  to  adorn  a  design  that 
should  point  a  better  moral,  she  put  the  painting 
in  the  grate,  ignited  a  match,  and  smiled  as 
George  and  Lady  Washington  with  the  entire  host 
of  revelers  went  dancing  up  the  chimney  in  a 
stream  of  smoke.  She  next  added  to  the  fuel  a 
Ladies'  Magazine  which  had  on  its  cover  the  nude 
bust  of  a  woman,  and  a  popular  Monthly  which 
advertised  a  certain  brand  of  whiskey;  also  a 
paper  that  issued  a  sensational  Sunday  edition. 

Now  came  the  battle  of  the  books.  Mr.  Blalock 
had  always  been  prompt  to  supply  the  library 
with  the  latest  publications,  and  unfortunately 
he  was  not  careful,  at  times,  to  weigh  their  merits. 
Not  infrequently  specimens  of  the  world's  most 
insinuating  and  corrupting  thought  crept  into  his 
shelves.  Covert  attacks  upon  the  Bible  and  the 
Christian  religion  were  sheltered  in  this  home  of 
professed  believers.  "Shame!"  cried  Maud,  as 
she  overhauled  her  father's  tomes;  and  in  her 
righteous  indignation,  she  required  each  author 
to  give  account  of  the  deeds  done  in  his  book  at 
her  judgment-bar.  First  she  condemned  and 
consigned  to  the  fire  volume  after  volume  of  crazy 
jargon  and  vicious  plots,  as  well  as  all  sensa- 
tional and  unchaste  stories  claiming  to  be  re- 
ligious, such  as  Hall  Caine's  immoral  rubbish  call- 
ed "The  Christian,"  and  Marie  Corelli's  unsavory 
travesty,  "The  Master  Christian." 


284  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

In  her  holy  zeal,  Maud  did  not  spare  her  father's 
meerschaum  pipe  and  tobacco-box;  and  with  fix 
edness  of  purpose  cast  these  contraband  articles 
with  a  dozen  cases  of  Havana  cigars,  into  the 
hungry  flames. 

Waving  her  conquering  banner,  the  young 
heroine  of  faith  swept  into  the  parlor,  and  re- 
moved from  the  cabinet  all  dance  music  and 
questionable  operas,  together  with  indelicate 
comic  pieces.  Nor  did  Wagner's  far-famed  "Par- 
sifal" escape  her  iconoclastic  hand,  notwithstand- 
ing the  classic  name  of  its  author. 

On  the  center-table  there  were  two  articles 
highly  prized  by  her  parents.  Mr.  Blalock  laid 
special  stress  on  the  album,  embossed  with  silver, 
while  Mrs.  Blalock  regarded  the  stereoscope  as 
her  peculiar  treasure.  The  album  contained  a 
hundred  photographs  of  noted  actors  and  actresses 
in  the  immodest  costumes  of  the  stage.  Her 
father  had  taken  great  pains  and  incurred  no 
small  expense  in  making  this  collection,  represent- 
ing as  it  did,  the  theatrical  celebrities  of  Europe 
and  America.  Having  stripped  the  album  of  its 
players,  Maud  dropoed  them  into  the  waste- 
basket;  and  she  could  not  reoress  a  smile  when 
she  recognized  the  redoubtable  Sarah  Bernhardt 
seemingly  standing1  on  her  head  amid  the  debris 
of  stars.  Then  she  began  to  pass  her  mother's 
views  through  the  'scope,  removing  all  objection- 


MAUD  BLALOCK  REVOLUTIONIZES  HER  HOME.  285 


able  scenes,  such  as  a  series  of  pictures  repre- 
senting a  married  couple  in  the  several  stages  of 
undress.  After  this,  peering  into  every  nook  and 
corner  of  the  spacious  parlor  for  some  offensive 
object,  she  spied  the  handsome  phonograph, 
which  had  given  so  much  diversion  to  the  family 
and  its  visitors.  But  there  were  some  records 
that  were  not  in  keeping  with  Christian  dignity, 
as  for  instance,  "Little  Brown  Jug."  These,  with 
the  rest  of  her  plunder,  were  deposited  in  the 
grate  as  an  offering  to  the  god  of  fire. 

Passing  into  the  hall,  the  Christian  girl  con- 
fronted the  large  statue  of  Venus,  which  was 
universally  pronounced  a  superb  work  of  art.  It 
cost  fifteen  hundred  dollars,  and  its  right  to  oc- 
cupy the  most  prominent  place  in  the  mansion  had 
never  been  questioned.  The  bust  was  nude  and 
revolting.  Maud  paused  before  this  divinity  of 
voluptuousness,  and  involuntarily  covered  her 
eyes  with  her  hands,  wondering  how  such  a 
loathsome  object  could  have  ever  found  its  way 
into  a  professedly  religious  household.  She  felt 
the  blood  tingling  in  her  cheeks.  Her  pulse 
quickened.  Her  frame  shuddered.  Her  eyes  filled 
with  great  sad  tears  of  shame.  Why,  thought 
she,  had  she  never  raised  her  voice  against  the 
introduction  of  this  base  ideal  of  art?  Why  had 
her  mother,  an  avowed  disciple  of  Jesus,  tolerated 
this  gross  indignity  offered  to  all  womanhood? 


286  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

At  length,  waiving  the  questionings  that  were 
flitting  through  her  mind,  she  ordered  a  servant 
to  go  out  upon  the  street  and  engage  six  men, 
while  she  decided  what  disposition  to  make  of 
the  ill-famed  goddess.  She  remembered  that 
there  was  an  old  well  in  a  back  corner  of  the 
lot,  which  her  father  was  having  filled  from  time 
to  time  as  rubbish  accumulated.  Here  she  found 
a  fitting  sepulchre  for  Aphrodite.  Leading  the 
men  as  they  strained  under  the  marble  deity,  in 
solemn  procession  to  the  well,  she  directed  them 
to  drop  their  burden.  When  she  heard  the  thud 
and  crash  on  the  stones  below,  she  exclaimed, 
"Thy  Kingdom  come!" 

Maud  concluded  her  reformatory  labors,  when, 
with  triumphant  and  ruthless  step,  she  entered  the 
wine-cellar,  and  commanded  the  servant  to  take 
thence  a  number  of  crates  and  baskets  filled  with 
choicest  liquors,  of  both  domestic  and  imported 
brands.  These  wines  had  attracted  bibulous  con- 
noisseurs to  the  Blalock  home,  and,  in  more  than 
one  instance,  had  paved  the  way  to  ruin  by  creat- 
ing a  desire  for  strong  drink.  As  Maud  recalled 
several  cases  of  intoxication  that  grew  out  of  her 
father's  wine-suppers,  moved  by  a  holy  enthusi- 
asm, she  had  the  liquors  poured  into  the  kitchen 
sink,  and  thus  closed  the  reign  of  Bacchus  in  her 
home. 

When   Mr.   Blalock  came  to  dinner   and   saw 


MAUD  BLALOCK  REVOLUTIONIZES  HER  HOME.  287 


what  Maud  had  done,  he  was  completely  bewild- 
ered. He  sat  down  in  his  arm-chair  and  seemed 
to  be  dreaming.  His  first  impulse  was  to  be  angry, 
but  he  loved  his  daughter  with  peculiar  affection, 
and  he  could  not  be  angry,  no  matter  how  grieved 
he  might  be.  After  all,  was  she  right?  Was 
John  Ernest  right?  Was  this  Christianity?  He 
called  her  to  him,  but  said  nothing.  He  clasped 
her  to  his  bosom  and  kissed  her  tenderly.  He 
realized,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  the  meaning 
of  Christianity  and  the  mission  of  Jesus  to  the 
world. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

MAUD  TRUE  TO   HER  CONVICTIONS. 

Dear  Maud: — Your  note,  recalling  the  invita- 
tion to  the   progressive-euchre   party,   has    been 

received.  I  must  confess  I  feel  both  pain  and 
surprise  at  the  explanation  you  give, —  pain,  be- 
cause I  had  anticipated  meeting  you  socially 
again;* — surprise,  because  your  manner,  once  so 
cordial,  seems  to  have  undergone  an  unexpected 
change,  and  to  indicate  a  degree  of  coldness  which 
I  hoped  could  never  exist.  In  view  of  your  gen- 
erous nature,  I  have  tried  to  think  that  I  am  mis- 
taken ;  yet  my  misgivings  are  the  more  confirmed 
by  your  abrupt  departure  from  the  ball-room  a 

few  evenings  since;  and  especially  by  your  brief 
sentence  at  the  close  of  the  waltz — Do  you  re- 
member?— "How  vapid  society  is!"  This  senti- 
ment I  have  not  been  able  to  understand ;  for  you 
are  so  bright  an  ornament  of  the  fashionable 
circle,  that  such  a  declaration  would  appear  im- 
possible to  you. 

I  write  this  soft  impeachment  on  the  ground 
that  I  have  presumed  to  feel  an  interest  in  you, 
the  extent  of  which  I  shall  not  name,  for  fear  of 
meriting  your  just  displeasure;  yet,  if  I  may  ac- 
commodate a  verse  from  Shakespeare,  "There's 
more  in  heaven  and  earth — and  also  in  some 
smaller  spheres — than  your  philosophy  has 
dreamed  of." 


MAUD  TRUE  TO  HER  CONVICTIONS.  289 

With  a  view  to  a  better  understanding,  will 
you  accord  me  the  coveted  privilege  of  visiting 
you  in  the  near  future? 

With  sincere  admiration,  yours 

Edward  Preston. 

Dear  Edward: — In  reply  to  yours  of  the  pres- 
ent date,  it  may  not  be  amiss  for  me  to  acknowl- 
edge that  my  explanation  was  indeed  too  meagre; 
but  you  will  make  some  allowance  for  this  over- 
sight when  it  is  stated  that  the  number  of  in- 
vitations canceled  exceeded  fifty.  I  shall,  there- 
fore, express  myself  more  fully  now. 

I  am  free  to  say  that  my  views  of  fashionable 
society  have,  indeed,  essentially  changed  of  late. 
Impressions  have  been  growing  upon  me,  almost 
unconsciously,  for  some  weeks,  due  to  our  pas- 
tor's sermons  on  the  relation  of  the  church  to 
social  conditions.  The  full  force  of  his  teaching, 
however,  did  not  break  upon  me  till  the  evening 
of  the  College  ball.  I  then  realized,  as  I  never 
had,  the  utter  insecurity  of  the  social  fabric,  and 
the  empty  trend  of  worldly  amusements.  Hence, 
I  have  discarded  the  dance,  the  theatre,  the  wine- 
dinner,  and  the  card-party  from  my  recreations 
and  enjoyments.  I  have  taken  this  step  from 
the  conviction  that  such  amusements  are  out  of 
accord  with  the  Christian  life;  and  since  taking 
it,  I  have  been  happier  than  ever  before.  The 
disclosure  may  appear  strange  to  you,  but  I  find 
now  my  highest  joy  and  most  charming  amuse- 
ments in  religion.  My  time,  my  talent,  if  I  have 
any,  and  my  heart  are  all  given  without  reser- 
vation, to  the  service  of  our  Saviour.     I  have 


290  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

broken  with  the  world,  and  am  dead  to  its  pleas- 
ures, except  so  far  as  they  may  be  innocently  re- 
produced in  the  sphere  of  faith.  It  follows,  that 
I  have  withdrawn  from  what  is  commonly  known 
as  fashionable  society.  I  relinquish  it,  however, 
without  the  slightest  asceticism,  just  as  a  heathen, 
when  enlightened,  abandons  his  false  religion  for 
the  true.  This  simile  is  not  intended  as  either  a 
reproach  or  a  reflection  aimed  at  my  friends,  but 
only  as  an  illustration  of  my  conduct. 

I  shall  esteem  it  a  pleasure  to  have  you  call. 

In  sincerity,  yours, 

Maud  Blalock. 

On  Thursday  afternoon  Edward  Preston  call- 
ed at  the  mansion  of  the  Blalocks.  He  could  but 
notice  the  many  alterations  in  the  furnishings  of 
the  parlor  which  had  been  made  since  his  last 
visit.  He  observed  the  re-arrangement  of  the 
center-table  and  the  difference  in  the  selections 
of  music  on  the  stand.  He  noted  particularly  the 
disappearance  of  an  exquisite  pastel  of  a  nude 
Cupid  from  the  mantel.  The  entire  atmosphere  of 
the  room  was  changed — more  wholesome,  more 
bracing.  He  scanned  the  surroundings  in  vain 
to  discover  any  object  that  did  not  foster  noble 
purpose,  teach  a  helpful  lesson,  or  stimulate  the 
mind  and  heart  to  sound  action.  All  this  seemed 
unutterably  strange  to  young  Preston,  and  yet 
he  was  conscious  of  an  awakening,  produced,  he 
knew  not  how. 


MAUD  TRUE  TO  HER  CONVICTIONS.  291 

Maud's  greeting  was  cordial;  she  had  known 
Edward  from  childhood.  He  was  bright,  enter- 
taining, and  conspicuously  a  gentleman.  In  their 
earlier  years,  they  had  attended  the  same  schools, 
contested  for  the  same  prizes,  and  in  social  posi- 
tion, were  equally  matched.  Both  were  members 
of  Grand  Avenue  Church,  and  both  were  wealthy. 

After  the  usual  exchange  of  preliminary  re- 
marks, Edward  frankly  said,  "Maud,  it  grieves 
me  to  think  that  there  has  sprung  up  between 
us  even  the  minutest  estrangement.  Be  candid 
enough  to  tell  me  whether  it  is  in  my  power  to 
effect  a  complete  reconciliation." 

"I  would  rather  answer  by  making  an  explana- 
tion;" said  Maud.  "You  are  not  responsible  for 
any  estrangement  that  may  have  arisen;  the 
change  has  taken  place  in  me.  My  views  of  life, 
my  conceptions  of  duty,  my  aspirations,  have  all 
altered  recently.  My  former  life  became  dis- 
tasteful to  me;  I  became  ashamed  of  my  indiffer- 
ence to  better  things;  and  in  the  light  of  Jesus' 
teachings,  I  resolved  to  live  as  I  think  a  Chris- 
tian ought  to  live.  This  required  a  change  in 
my  relations  to  society;  and  these  altered  rela- 
tions explain  not  so  much  'estrangements'  as  dif- 
ferences; in  other  words,  I  move  in  a  different 
sphere  from  that  of  the  past." 

"Maud,"  said  Preston,  becoming  more  familiar 
as  well  as  more  earnest,  "I  admire  your  fidelity 


292  THE  BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

to  principle;  and  did  all  Christians  take  your 
stand,  the  world  probably,  and  the  church  cer- 
tainly, would  be  much  better.  I  grew  up  to  think 
the  customs  of  society  are  right;  and  never  seri- 
ously doubted  their  propriety,  seeing  that  Chris- 
tians sustained  them.  Your  action  has  caused 
me  to  think  and  to  inquire.  It  all  seems  strange 
to  me,  because  Mr.  Ernest's  Christian  society 
idea  is  entirely  new  in  Woodville.  I  discover 
that  the  best  people  accept  it.  For  my  own  part, 
I  am  willing  to  be  instructed;  and  am  even  de- 
sirous of  knowing  my  full  duty.  I  heard  the  pas- 
tor's sermons  on  the  subject,  and  have  seen  his 
views  illustrated  in  the  noble  lives  of  Miss 
Howard  and  Dr.  Foster,  and  many  others,  but 
most  conspicuously  in  yourself." 

"Thanks!"  said  Maud;  but  there  must  be  no 
flattery,  Edward.  I  am  but  an  awkward  begin- 
ner, and  need  help  myself." 

"I  only  wish  I  could  render  but  the  smallest 
assistance;"  said  young  Preston  earnestly. 

"You  can  render  important  service,"  said  Maud, 
blushing. 

"How?"  inquired  Edward  softly,  with  undis- 
guised interest. 

"By  being  yourself  a  true  Christian."  And 
there  was  a  pause. 

At  length  Edward  spoke:  "Maud,  I  have  de- 
sired, above  all  things,  to  be  a  true  Christian, 


MAUD   TRUE   TO   HER   CONVICTIONS.  293 

and  thus  to  make  the  most  of  myself;  but  until 
Mr.  Ernest  came  to  our  church,  the  specimens 
of  Christianity  that  we  saw  on  every  hand,  were 
not  inspiring.  But  I  now  promise  my  Saviour, 
with  you  as  witness,  that  I  will  devote  myself  to 
his  service,  subordinating  pleasure  to  duty,  and 
the  world  to  the  church." 

Maud  answered  by  glowing  cheeks  and  a  gra- 
cious smile. 

Edward  Preston  took  her  hand,  saying,  "Maud, 
I  have  loved  you  from  the  childish  hours  when 
we  walked  together  from  school,  when  I  fought 
every  boy  that  teased  you,  when  I  carried  your 
books  and  lifted  you  over  the  snow-drifts.  That 
love  has  ripened  now,  and  life  without  you  would 
seem  an  awful  desolation.  Will  you  brighten  and 
gladden  my  home  in  years  to  come  by  your  pres- 
ence and  your  love?" 

If  actions  speak  louder  than  words,  silence 
often  speaks  louder  than  either.  Maud  hesitated. 
She  had  long  entertained  sincere  friendship  for 
young  Preston,  and  such  friendship  as  might  early 
ripen  into  a  deeper  affection.  She  saw  in  him 
many  excellent  traits  of  character.  He  was  easily 
the  peer  of  any  young  man  in  the  city  in  what 
the  world  calls  honor.  The  one  quality  that  she 
feared  was  lacking  was  a  high  type  of  spirituality. 
She  had  not  clearly  distinguished  in  him  the 
exalted   purpose   of  the   ideal   believer.      So,   at 


294  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

length,  she  broke  the  spell  of  silence. 

"Edward,  we  have,  as  you  just  remarked, 
grown  up  together,  and  have  always  been  friends, 
and  I  shall  ever  esteem  it  an  honor  to  be  a  friend, 
assuring  you  of  my  great  regard  for  the  excel- 
lencies of  your  character — but,  as  I  view  it  now, 
we  can  be  only  friends." 

A  cloud  came  over  Preston's  bright  face.  He 
had  felt  sure  of  Maud  Blalock's  love — but  then, 
her  new  ideas!  She  has  imbibed,  he  thought, 
religious  views  that  separate  hearts  that  but  for 
them  would  be  one.  In  his  mental  agony  he 
realized  that  he  no  longer  understood  the  sweet- 
heart of  a  dozen  happy  years — she  had  grown 
away  from  him! 

"Maud,"  said  Preston,  in  a  tone  of  evident  dis- 
appointment and  pain,  "tell  me  frankly  why  you 
have  broken  my  heart?" 

"Surely  I  have  had  no  such  intention,  Edward." 

"Maud,  I  want  to  ask  a  single  pointed  ques- 
tion. Keep  nothing  back,  but  tell  me  all.  Why 
will  you  not  marry  me?" 

"Edward,  it  is  simply  because  of  the  diver- 
gencies of  our  conceptions  of  Christ's  sovereign- 
ty over  our  lives.  I  have  mistrusted  your  reali- 
zation of  the  glory  of  your  high  calling.  I  could 
not  give  my  heart  to  any  man  who  did  not  make 
the  service  of  our  Redeemer  supreme." 

"Maud,  I  am  sure  you  do  me  an  injustice.     I 


MAUD   TRUE   TO   HER   CONVICTIONS. 


295 


think  I  am  sincere  in  my  profession  of  faith  in 
him,  and  in  my  allegiance  to  his  cause.  And  it  is 
my  desire  to  grow  in  grace  and  usefulness." 

"Yes,  Edward,  but  it  has  occurred  to  me  that 
you  have  not  made  Christ  the  Master  of  your 
life;  that  you  have  not  put  the  church  first  in 
your  affections,  but  have  subordinated  it  to  numer- 
ous orders  and  lodges,  whose  influence  is  hostile 
to  a  pure  Christianity." 

"Why,  Maud,  you  don't  think  the  fraternities 
are  wrong?" 

"Indeed  I  do.  They  are  at  least  narrow.  I 
cannot  imagine  the  noblest  type  of  Christians  as 
belonging  to  them.  Mr.  Ernest  says  the  home 
and  the  church  are  the  only  social  organizations  a 
man  needs.  It  seems  to  be  the  tendency  of  the 
societies  to  lower  the  tone  of  religious  character, 
or  else  to  destroy  it  altogether." 

"Do  you  recall  a  prominent  instance  of  such 
baneful  influence  in  Woodville?" 

"I  regret  to  say  I  do.  The  club  has  weaned 
my  father  from  his  church,  and  alienated  him 
from  my  mother.  Oh !  I  detest  a  club,  and  would 
never  marry  a  club-man!"  And  there  was  fixed 
resolve  in  her  tone. 

Preston  knew  this  to  be  true,  and  felt  the  keen 
force  of  Maud's  indictment.  He  recalled  also 
other  cases  of  men  whose  homes  had  been  in- 
jured or  ruined  by  fraternal  organizations.     As 


296  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

he  vividly  called  to  mind  the  gambling-dens  and 
dr  in  king-places,  with  all  their  frightful  orgies, 
connected  with  many  of  the  fraternities,  he  dis- 
cerned a  just  cause  for  any  woman's  not  wanting 
to  marry  a  devotee  of  the  club. 

"Maud,"  said  Edward  at  length,  "I  admit  the 
perfect  justice  of  what  you  have  stated.  But  in- 
asmuch as  no  minister  in  the  city,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  Mr.  Ernest,  has  ever  dared  attack 
secret  organizations,  our  young  men  have  never 
questioned  the  propriety  of  uniting  with  them, 
particularly  when  they  saw  that  the  most  in- 
fluential citizens  were  members.  My  connection 
with  the  orders  has  been  brief.  I  never  once 
thought  of  their  indirect  antagonism  to  the 
church  and  the  home,  nor  of  the  possible  harm 
they  work  to  Christian  character,  though  I  have 
now  become  satisfied  that  they  are  not  conducive 
to  spiritual  growth.  And  Maud,"  taking  her 
hand  and  pressing  it,  and  lowering  his  voice,  "for 
you,  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  give  up  ten  thou- 
sand orders,  and  though  I  were  wedded  to  them, 
I'd  rather  be  wedded  to  you.  If,  moreover,  there 
are  no  obstacles  besides  these,  they  shall  be  at 
once  and  forever  removed. 

"Now,  Maud,  my  own  dearest  Maud,  again  I 
pledge  you  my  heart,  whose  love  to  you  will  ever 
be  second  only  to  that  I  bear  my  God." 


MAUD   TRUE   TO   HER    CONVICTIONS. 


297 


A  sweet  light  crept  into  Maud  Blalock's  face, 
and  she  plighted  her  troth  to  Edward  Preston. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

A  QUESTION  OF  CLUBS. 

The  next  evening  at  tea,  Maud  asked  her  father 
whether  he  were  not  going  to  the  prayer-meeting 
that  night.  Mr.  Blalock  did  not  answer  at  once, 
appearing  somewhat  confused,  and  not  a  little 
troubled.  After  an  awkward  hesitation  he  re- 
plied, "My  daughter,  I  have  been  making  a  num- 
ber of  improvements  in  the  last  few  days,  and 
among  them,  family  worship.  Don't  you  think 
that  is  prayer  enough  for  the  present?" 

"Father,"  answered  Maud  with  great  rever- 
ence and  glowing  enthusiasm,  "don't  you  think 
we  lose  a  great  deal  by  not  meeting  with  our  fel- 
low-Christians in  the  mid-week  service?  And, 
you  know,  you  haven't  been  for  some  months 
now.  I  am  anxious  for  you  to  go  with  me  to- 
night, for  I  find  it  a  hard  struggle  to  live  up  to 
the  standard  the  Saviour  has  set  us.  I  feel  so  very 
weak." 

"Maud,  I  am  sorry  I  cannot  accompany  you 
this  evening;  but,  you  know,  it  is  club  night,  and 
we  are  to  receive  members ;  it  is  a  very  important 
meeting  and  I  feel  that  I  have  to  be  present." 


THE  QUESTION  OF  CLUBS.  299 

"0  Father,  can  you  compare  a  club-meeting 
with  a  prayer-meeting?  Our  church  is  to  receive 
members  also  to-night,  six  hopeful  young  converts 
from  Corinne's  'infant  inob,'  as  she  calls  it — 
and  two  men  who  have  been  noted  drunkards  in 
Woodville;  don't  you  think  these  are  the  mem- 
bers you  should  welcome  and  encourage?" 

Mr.  Blalock  found  it  quite  difficult  to  answer 
his  daughter's  logic,  as  any  man  finds  it  hard  to 
defend  a  bad  cause.  He  seemed  to  be  irritated, 
and  betrayed  his  usual  even  temper  by  saying, 
"I  go  to  the  club  for  other  reasons."  Then,  Mrs. 
Blalock,  knowing  only  too  well  the  reasons,  left 
the  table. 

"Father,"  said  Maud  in  a  sad,  but  tender  voice, 
"some  days  since,  you  gave  me  permission  to 
make  reforms  in  our  home  extending  even  to  you 
and  mother.  You  have  seen  the  elevating  tone 
of  the  changes  that  have  been  made  in  the  house ; 
now  will  you  let  me  suggest  some  changes  that 
I  think  should  be  made  in  the  inmates  of  the 
home?" 

"My  daughter,  you  can  say  anything  you  please, 
only  I  have  but  a  few  moments  before  I  must  be 
off." 

"Father,"  asked  Maud,  looking  directly  at  her 
parent,  "won't  you  give  up  the  club?" 

A  peal  of  thunder  in  a  clear  sky  would  not  have 
been   more   unexpected   than   this   question.     A 


300  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

frown  mantled  his  brow;  the  muscles  of  his  lips 
contracted;  and  he  showed  signs  of  disapproval 
and  impatience — which  he  rarely  displayed  in  the 
presence  of  his  daughter. 

"Why  do  you  object  to  the  club?"  he  inquired 
somewhat  petulantly. 

"Father,  must  I  tell  you?" 

"Yes,  Maud ;  for  I  don't  think  you  should  inter- 
fere in  such  things  without  having  the  very  best 
of  reasons." 

"My  reasons,  then,  are  these,"  said  Maud  calm- 
ly: "I  have  observed  that  members  of  clubs, 
lodges,  and  orders,  make  poor  members  of 
churches ;  they  subordinate  a  divine  institution  to 
a  worldly;  they  are  punctual  at  the  club,  and 
irregular  at  church;  they  cultivate  the  fraternity 
of  the  club  and  disregard  the  brotherhood  of  the 
sanctuary.  But  Father,  may  be,  I  am  making 
myself  disagreeable;  must  I  go  on?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Blalock;  "let  me  hear  you 
through." 

"The  club  is  one  of  the  worst  enemies  Chris- 
tianity has.  Did  you  ever  observe  that  not  a 
single  earnest  worker  in  Grand  Avenue  Church 
belongs  to  a  club  or  any  such  organization?"  Mr. 
Blalock  winced.  "The  members  of  our  church  who 
have  been  prominent  in  the  various  Woodville 
societies,  have  been  men  like  Mason  Saunders, 
Mr.  Stuart,  and  Dr.  Arlington,  whose  Christian- 


THE  QUESTION  OF  CLUBS.  301 

ity  no  one  accepts.  Club-men  do  not  commonly 
attend  Sunday  services,  and  almost  never  the 
prayer-meeting;  while,  because  of  their  habits 
and  associations,  they  are  a  hindrance  rather 
than  a  help  to  the  pastor.  Then,  Father,  the  club 
is  the  blight  of  the  home,  the  mildew  of  the  do- 
mestic relations,  and  sometimes,  as  you  know,  the 
death  of  love." 

Mr.  Blalock's  fingers  twitched,  the  grooves  on 
his  brow  grew  deeper,  and  his  eyes  snapped.  His 
daughter  had  laid  bare  his  inner  life — she  had 
proved  the  prophetess  of  his  heart.  He  knew  full 
well  that  his  own  home-ties  had  been  strained; 
and  further,  that  his  marriage  vows  had  been 
shattered,  by  fondness  for  the  club.  Mrs.  Blalock 
had  suffered  agonies  for  years  because  her  hus- 
band's time  and  care  seemed  to  be  wholly  given 
to  his  fraternity.  He  had  once  devotedly  loved 
her — and  she  was  worthy  of  the  affection  of  any 
true  man — but  since  joining  the  club,  he  had  been 
growing  more  and  more  indifferent,  and  finally 
had  been  won  both  from  his  home  and  his 
church. 

Maud,  perceiving  her  father's  profound  agita- 
tion, arose,  and  then  knelt  down  by  his  side,  plac- 
ing her  head  upon  his  bosom.  "Father,"  said 
she  sobbing,  "will  you  give  up  the  club,  and  love 
mother  again?" 

"Maud,"  stammered  Mr.  Blalock  in  broken  ac- 


302  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

cents,  "I  have  given  up  the  club  forever!"  and 
there  is  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of  God 
over  one  Christian  that  abandons  a  club.  The 
truant  husband  sought  at  once  the  broken-hearted 
wife — and  there  began  a  new  era  of  happiness  in 
the  Blalock  home. 

For  the  first  time  in  many  months,  and  indeed, 
in  several  years,  the  entire  Blalock  family  attend- 
ed the  prayer-meeting  at  Grand  Avenue  Church. 
Mr.  Ernest's  theme  was  "Hindrances  to  the  Chris- 
tian Life."  He  spoke  with  unusual  tenderness 
and  power,  closing  his  remarks  with  an  appeal 
of  peculiar  pathos.  He  said:  "Imagine  you  were 
standing  in  an  open  field,  and  a  rabbit,  with 
heart  wildly  beating  and  with  wearied  limbs, 
came  leaping  past  you,  straining  every  muscle  to 
gain  a  distant  thicket,  while  on  his  trail  only  a 
few  steps  behind  him,  was  a  long,  lank,  hungry 
hound,  rending  the  air  with  death-yelps,  gain- 
ing every  moment  on  his  almost  exhausted  victim. 
Then  suppose  you  should  say  to  the  little  creature 
so  hotly  pursued,  'Fly,  little  rabbit!  Yonder  is 
the  thicket!  The  hound  is  gaining  on  you!  Fly 
for  your  life!'  Would  it  not  have  been  a  just 
rebuke  had  the  rabbit  said,  'Man,  if  you  care  for 
my  safety,  stop  the  dog;  for  I  am  doing  the  best 
I  can!'  In  our  relation  to  the  weak  and  tempted, 
let  that  be  our  motto — 'Stop  the  dog!'  We  have 
already  stopped  the  dog  of  strong  drink  in  Wood- 


THE  QUESTION  OF  CLUBS.  303 

ville,  and  many  human  rabbits  have  been  saved, 
we  have  checked  the  Sabbath-desecrating  dog, 
and  have  enabled  tired  souls  to  find  rest  and 
refuge  in  the  sanctuary.  As  a  nation,  we  have 
stopped  the  Spanish  dog  from  destroying  Cuba 
and  the  Philippines ;  and  by  prayers  and  petitions 
we  are  trying  to  stop  the  Mormon  dog  from  reach- 
ing Congress ;  but  there  is  a  dog  not  so  far  away, 
that  is  ravaging  our  flock,  and  destroying  many 
feeble  ones;  it  is  the  club  dog.  He  barks  nearly 
every  night  in  the  week,  and  his  bark  is  answered 
by  the  piteous  cry  of  wives  and  children  in  every 
part  of  the  town.  A  furious  dog  is  this  hound  of 
the  club.  He  barks  till  late  hours;  he  heeds  not 
the  tears  or  entreaties  of  mothers  and  wives;  he 
disregards  marriage  vows  and  all  sacred  rela- 
tions; he  heeds  not  solemn  responsibilities;  he 
tramples  upon  love;  he  covers  the  domestic  altar 
with  frost;  he  slays  virtue;  and  forgets  God  in 
laughter,  smoke,  and  champagne.  Men  prominent 
in  societies  are  figure-heads  in  churches ;  men  who 
patronize  the  club,  neglect  the  home ;  and  I  never 
knew  an  earnest  church-worker  who  spent  his 
nights  at  the  lodge.  In  view  of  this  fact,  desiring 
your  own  highest  good,  I  have  it  in  mind  to  ask 
you  to  break  your  connection  with  clubs  and  all 
kindred  organizations,  on  the  ground  that  they 
are  hostile  to  your  best  interests.  A  club  can  add 
nothing  to  a  good  man,  while  it  quietly  robs  him 


304  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

of  all  he  should  most  highly  prize.  Its  associa- 
tions are  in  some  degree  always  low,  its  tone  and 
spirit  are  damaging,  its  entire  scope  is  unworthy 
of  Christians.  The  church  furnishes  a  complete 
field  of  labor  and  pleasure,  and  the  only  proper 
society  for  a  Christian.  How  many  of  you  will 
stop  the  dog?    The  meeting  is  now  open." 

To  the  astonishment  of  all  present,  Mr.  Bla- 
lock  was  the  first  to  rise.  He  said,  "I  never  be- 
fore opened  my  mouth  in  a  prayer-meeting,  though 
I  have  had  much  to  say  in  clubs.  I  suppose  the 
reason  is,  that  I  felt  more  interest  in  an  institu- 
tion of  men  than  in  that  of  God.  But,  my  dear 
pastor,  I  for  one,  have  stopped  the  dog.  I  have 
broken  connection  with  three  clubs  and  two  lodges 
since  supper.  The  club,  in  my  case,  was  not  so 
much  a  yelping  hound,  as  a  sly  hyena,  destroying 
all  that  is  sacred  in  life,  robbing  me  of  home 
domestic  joy  and  religious  comfort.  I  have  had 
more  peace  in  the  last  two  hours  than  in  all  the 
fifteen  years  of  my  association  with  all  sorts  of 
mock  fraternities.  I  feel  like  a  culprit  from  whose 
chafed  limbs  the  cruel  irons  have  been  removed. 
For  the  first  time  in  fifteen  years,  I  feel  like  a 
free  man,  just  escaped  from  the  house  of  bond- 
age. The  church  alone  shall  have  my  service  and 
support  hereafter.  I  went  into  the  orders  for 
brotherhood  and  society;  and  I  leave  them,  be- 
cause I  found  neither  therein.     Jesus  Christ  was 


THE  QUESTION  OF  CLUBS.  305 

the  teacher  of  brotherhood  and  the  creator  of 
true  society;  I  shall,  therefore,  give  myself  fully 
to  the  only  institution  that  adequately  embodies 
these  divine  conceptions;  namely,  the  Christian 
Church." 

These  words  had  wondrous  weight  in  Grand 
Avenue  Church.  Mr.  Blalock  was  connected  with 
almost  every  prominent  enterprise  or  institution 
in  the  city,  whether  hosiery,  bank  or  college.  The 
congregation  wept  for  joy  and  a  score  of  young 
and  middle-aged  men,  in  quick  succession,  pledg- 
ed themselves  to  withdraw  from  all  secret  orders 
— and  among  them  was  Edward  Preston. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

MORAL  MIRACLES. 

The  great  tide  of  reform  in  Grand  Avenue 
Church  continued  to  rise  higher  and  higher.  Men 
were  everywhere  discussing  questions  of  duty 
while  on  the  very  bells  of  the  horses  holiness 
seemed  to  be  written.  The  glory  of  Christianity 
is  not  in  its  aesthetic  buildings,  artistic  choirs,  and 
richly  endowed  colleges,  but  in  its  life.  A  true 
church  is  clearly  marked  from  the  world,  and 
does  what  worldly  organizations  cannot  do.  It 
is  characterized  by  a  superb  dignity  and  moral 
grandeur  all  its  own.  There  are  some  institu- 
tions that  have  copied  several  of  its  features,  but 
when  distinctly  scanned,  they  are  but  as  tapers 
flickering  in  the  splendid  light  of  the  sun.  The 
university  effects  vast  results,  but  it  works  no 
miracle.  Philosophy  teaches,  but  it  does  not 
save.  Society  polishes,  but  it  does  not  cleanse. 
Governments  civilize  and  restrain,  but  they  do 
not  regenerate.  Whenever  Christ  abides  in  a 
church,  moral  miracles  testify  to  his  presence. 

Such  was  the  trend  of  John  Ernest's  Sunday 
morning     sermon.       He     said,     in     concluding, 


MORAL  MIRACLES.  307 

"Christ's  ministry  always  had  the  opposite 
qualities  of  attracting  and  repelling.  When  he 
preached,  some  said  he  had  a  devil,  while  others 
worshipped  him.  When  dying,  he  put  the  cross 
between  two  thieves.  At  the  Judgment,  he  will 
separate  the  sheep  from  the  goats.  Paul,  follow- 
ing his  Master,  divided  the  people ;  so  did  Luther, 
Wesley,  Spurgeon.  All  our  churches  should  be 
divided.  Our  own  flock  needs  a  thorough  win- 
nowing. The  lives  of  many  are  a  reproach  to 
Christianity.  They  are  neither  sober,  truthful, 
honest,  nor  even  chaste.  Not  a  few  of  the  leaders 
of  the  congregation  are  also  leaders  of  fashion- 
able society,  most  of  them  as  proud  as  Lucifer, 
and  a  number  of  them  as  sensual  as  pagans." 

These  searching  words  precipitated  the  im- 
pending crisis.  Under  John  Ernest's  preaching, 
the  separation  of  elements  so  entirely  distinct, 
was  only  a  question  of  time. 

Mason  Saunders,  with  considerable  affectation 
of  dignity,  rising  in  the  congregation,  declared 
that  he  could  no  longer  remain  in  fellowship  with 
a  body  of  bigots,  hopelessly  committed  to  a  policy 
of  narrowness,  and  that  his  connection  with 
Grand  Avenue  Church  would  at  once  and  forever 
cease.  He  then  walked  proudly  down  the  aisle 
and  out  of  the  church,  followed  by  Mr.  Stuart, 
the  banker,  and  a  motley  crowd  of  wealthy  prigs, 
club-gamesters,  and  frivolous  devotees  of  fashion 


308  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

and  pleasure.  As  the  malcontents  marched  out, 
in  number  about  three  hundred,  God's  chosen 
ones  sprang  to  their  feet  en  masse  and  sang  with 
undisguised  gratitude, 

"Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow." 

This  was  Grand  Avenue's  pentecostal  hour. 
The  unholy,  formal,  dead  element,  boastful  of  its 
money,  or  culture,  or  else  glorying  in  its  shame 
and  hypocrisy,  no  longer  quenched  the  Divine 
Spirit,  and  so  breaking  the  harmony  of  the 
saints ;  but  returned  according  to  its  nature,  to  its 
wallowing  in  the  mire.  Celestial  light  began  to 
crown  the  mountains  of  the  spiritual  Zion,  and 
glory  filled  the  Lord's  house.  Brotherhood,  so 
long  broken  by  the  jarring  factions  of  a  mixed 
membership,  now  reigned.  Joy  unspeakable  filled 
all  hearts,  for  the  Bride,  repentant  and  exultant, 
had  at  length  returned  to  the  Sovereign  sway  of 
her  Lord.  Jesus,  the  Good  Shepherd,  added 
weekly  to  the  church  those  that  were  bein£  saved. 
The  very  atmosphere  seemed  charged  with  vital 
force.  Through  the  completed  electrical  circuit 
of  a  pure  faith,  the  dynamo  of  heaven  was  ac- 
complishing its  wonders.  The  marvels  of  prim- 
itive Christianity  returned.  Moral  miracles  evi- 
denced the  presence  of  the  Great  Pastor.  Old 
men  who  had  beslimed  the  social  life  of  Wood- 


MORAL  MIRACLES.  309 

ville  with  their  cheap  infidelity,  were  induced  by 
the  potent  influences  of  a  purified  church  to  be- 
lieve. Moral  lepers  were  cleansed.  Devotees  of 
numerous  and  nameless  vices  confessed  their  evil 
ways  with  tears  and  words  meet  for  repentance. 
Thus  was  demonstrated,  what  so  many  seem  to 
deny,  that  apostolical  Christianity  is  possible  even 
in  these  degenerate  days  of  self-sufficiency,  com- 
mercialism, materialism,  unbelief,  and  spiritual 
apathy.  It  became  evident,  too,  that  a  false 
church  is  as  hurtful  as  a  false  god,  and  that  noth- 
ing short  of  the  Christianity  of  Christ  can  regen- 
erate society. 

The  Grand  Avenue  congregation,  realizing 
more  and  more  the  presence  of  the  great  Shep- 
herd, and  giving  more  earnest  heed  to  his  teach- 
ing, were  following  higher  ideals.  The  man  that 
never  asks  any  question  about  his  moral  duties 
is  unfitted  for  church-membership.  Capt.  Jack 
Phipps,  under  the  lash  of  an  awakened  conscience, 
having  begun  to  question  his  ways,  called  at  the 
pastor's  study. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Ernest,"  said  Jack  Phipps, 
conductor  on  a  through  train. 

"Why,  how  do  you  do,  Captain?  What  in  the 
world  are  you  doing  here?" 

"Well,  Parson,  it  is  just  this.  I  stopped  in  at 
Grand  Avenue  Church  one  evening  when  you 
were  speaking  about  the  Sabbath.       It  was  the 


310  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

first  time  I  had  had  a  Sunday  off  in  three  months. 
You  said  that  a  man  who  worked  on  the  Sabbath 
day,  never  stopping  to  think  or  to  worship,  led 
a  purely  animal  existence.    It  angered  me  at  first, 
for  that  was  the  way  I  spent  most  of  my  Sundays. 
Then,  in  spite  of  myself,  I  began  to  examine  my 
past  life,  and  to  compare  myself  with  the  animals. 
I  kept  asking,  'What  sort  of  a  brute  am  I?'     I 
worked  like  an  ox  at  the  bidding  of  a  master,  as 
much  Sunday  as  Monday.     I  was  valued  by  the 
railroad  authorities,  just  as  the  owner  values  his 
ox,  by    the  measure  of  my  labor.     When  I  got 
home,  I  found  that  I  was  an  animal  there  too,  not 
an  ox — but  a  dog,  tired,  sleepy,  nervous,  snappish, 
caring  only  to  get  my  meals  and  to  lie  down  and 
sleep.     My  home  was  my  kennel.     I  found  but 
little  pleasure  in  my  family,  I  had  no  Sabbath  for 
rest,  no  opportunity  to  attend  church  for  instruc- 
tion, and  no  chance    to  cultivate    my    spiritual 
nature.     But  after  hearing  your  sermon,  I  said 
last  Sunday  morning,  as  my  train  was  flying  past 
Woodville,  'I'll  be  a  dog  no  longer;  but,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  I'll  be  a  man.    As  my  train  flew  on, 
I  looked  back  and  saw    Grand    Avenue    Church 
steeple  pointing  towards  heaven.    The  tears  came 
into  my  eyes,  and  something  seemed  to  say  to 
me,  'The  church,  and  not  the  cars,  is  the  place  for 
a  man  on  the  Sabbath  day.'    When  I  got  to  the 
end  of  the  run,  I  reported  to  the  authorities,  and 


MORAL   MIRACLES.  311 

asked  if  I  could  have  my  Sundays  at  home.  I  was 
answered  roughly,  'Yes,  you  can  have  all  your 
Sundays  at  home,  and  your  Mondays,  too.'  I 
knew  then  that  I  was  discharged.  I  realized  that 
it  meant  the  loss  of  a  position  worth  a  hundred 
dollars  per  month.  I  walked  out  of  the  office,  and 
looking  up  at  the  stars,  felt,  for  the  first  time  in 
my  life,  that  I  was  a  man.  I  held  my  head  up, 
and  my  heart  was  light.  When  I  reached  home, 
my  wife  met  me  at  the  door;  I  broke  out  into  a 
laugh,  and  told  her  that  I  had  lost  my  job,  but 
saved  my  soul. 

"I  tell  you,  Mr.  Ernest,  the  Sabbath  of  the  Bible 
is  fast  becoming  an  obsolete  institution  in  Ameri- 
ca. There  are  upwards  of  three  million  persons 
in  the  United  States  engaged  in  Sunday  labor, 
affecting  fifteen  million  people  directly,  and  near- 
ly the  whole  population  indirectly.  And  this  is 
one  reason  you  preachers  reach  so  few  of  us  sin- 
ners. I  have  been  on  the  road  for  twenty-five 
years,  and  I  can  testify  that  this  Sabbath  desecra- 
tion is  destroying  the  poor  fellows  that  engage 
in  it.  And  the  corporations  that  drive  them  like 
so  many  cattle,  have  no  more  conscience  than  a 
rock.    It's  a  fact,  sir." 

Capt.  Jack  paused.  John  Ernest  listened,  in  a 
brown  study,  to  the  recital  of  his  story. 
His  heart  burned,  his  soul  was  indignant.  He  be- 
gan to  question  whether  our  boasted  civilization 


812  THE   BRIDE'S  RETURN. 

is  bane  or  blessing.  After  a  few  words  of  encour- 
agement from  the  minister,  the  conductor  re- 
sumed. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "if  you  ain't  ashamed  of  a 
fellow  like  me,  once  a  railroad  Sunday  dog,  but 
now  Christ's  man  for  seven  days  in  the  week,  you 
can  put  my  name  down  for  church-membership." 

"Capt.  Phipps,"  said  Ernest  kindly,  "you  are 
the  sort  of  folks  we  want,  and  I  assure  you,  the 
church  will  cordially  welcome  you. 

"Now,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  another 
job?" 

"Well,  Parson,  I  haven't  thought  much  about 
that.  The  main  thing  with  me  has  been  to  deter- 
mine what  is  right,  job  or  no  job.  I  have  put 
my  case  into  the  hands  of  the  great  Advocate, 
believing  that  he  will  manage  it  for  me." 

The  conductor  was  just  finishing  his  story,  so 
full  of  trust  in  God,  when  a  mechanic  called  to 
see  the  minister. 

"Pastor,"  began  the  workman,  "I  have  lost  my 
place  in  the  planing-mills ;  but  I  am  not  disturbed 
about  it.  I  just  thought  I  would  let  you  know 
that  I  am  trying  to  carry  out  your  teaching,  and 
that  I  intend  to  keep  my  Sabbath  whether  I  keep 
my  job  or  not." 

"What's  the  trouble,  brother?"  asked  Mr. 
Ernest,  whose  sympathy  was  always  easily 
aroused  by  the  recital  of  wrong  or  distress. 


MORAL  MIRACLES.  313 

"Oh,  it  was  only  a  Sunday  job  the  boss  wanted 
me  to  do ;  and  because  I  refused,  he  laid  me  off." 

"How  did  it  happen?"  inquired  the  pastor,  in- 
terested in  whatever  concerned  his  members. 

"Well,  you  see,  sir,  the  firm  had  a  large  order 
on  hand  they  were  anxious  to  finish  up  Saturday 
night,  so  as  to  begin  a  new  one  on  Monday  morn- 
ing. So,  you  see,  the  mills  were  running  on  extra 
time  to  get  the  stuff  ready  for  shipment  early 
Monday,  according  to  contract;  otherwise  the 
lumber  would  be  delayed  twelve,  or  possibly, 
twenty-four  hours.  I  worked  with  might  and 
main  to  put  things  in  shape  to  close  down  by 
twelve  o'clock  Saturday  night.  I  discovered, 
when  it  was  nearly  midnight,  that  the  order  could 
not  be  completed  before  two  o'clock  Sunday 
morning.  So  I  went  to  the  boss  and  told  him  how 
the  matter  stood.  He  ripped  out  a  great  oath, 
and  said  the  order  would  have  to  be  finished  up, 
if  it  took  till  dinner-time  Sunday  to  do  it.  Then 
I  said,  'Boss,  at  twelve  to-night  my  machine  stops 
till  Monday  morning.' 

"  'I  don't  suppose  it  will,"  said  the  boss.  'You 
may  stop,  but  I'll  let  you  know  your  machine 
won't  stop.' 

"I  went  back  to  my  place,  and  worked  till  the 
town  clock  struck  twelve;  then  I  was  about  to 
loosen  the  bands  and  shut  down,  when  an  opera- 
tive walked  up  and  said,  'I'll  take  charge  of  this 


314  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

machine.'  So  I  left  the  mills  with  a  clear  con- 
science. Pastor,  I  won't  be  anybody's  dog  as  long 
as  I  remember  what  you  said  about  the  Sabbath. 
No,  sir;  if  God  wants  a  dog,  I'll  be  his,  but  not 
man's." 

Looking  upon  the  noble  fellow  with  sincere 
admiration,  Ernest  uttered  to  himself,  "Thank 
God!"  Then  he  said  tc  the  mechanic,  "I  have 
been  expecting  something  like  this.  Capt.  Jack 
Phipps'  is  a  similar  case.  But  I  have  made  ar- 
rangements to  meet  his  difficulty,  and  shall  see 
about  yours  now." 

Stepping  to  the  'phone,  he  called  up  Ben  Rolfe, 
president  of  the  Hosiery.  He  told  the  circum- 
stances, and  received  an  answer  that  made  the 
tears  start  in  his  eyes.  Turning  to  the  mechanic, 
he  repeated  Rolfe's  message.  "Tell  him  to  come 
to  the  office  at  once.  I  need  a  foreman  in  one  of 
the  departments  of  the  Hosiery." 

As  the  grateful  mechanic  rose  to  extend  his 
hand  to  the  pastor,  he  said,  "Mr.  Ernest,  by  the 
help  of  the  present  Christ,  there  are  two  things 
I  won't  do;  that  is,  work  on  the  Sabbath,  and 
attend  a  Sunday  evening  sacred  concert." 

These  were,  indeed,  signal  transformations,  yet 
not  more  remarkable  than  many  others  that  took 
place  after  the  Lord  became  Pastor  of  the 
church;  but  perhaps,  there  was  no  greater  mani- 
festation of  the  Shepherd's  power  than  the  con- 


MORAL  MIRACLES.  315 

version  of  a  man,  seemingly  akin  to  beast  and 
devil.  Because  of  this  wretch's  age  and  late 
hours,  he  was  universally  known  as  Old  Midnight. 

One  Sunday  evening  Old  Midnight,  to  the 
amazement  of  all  present,  attended  divine  ser- 
vice. It  was  the  first  time  in  twenty-five  years 
he  had  put  his  wayward  feet  in  a  place  of  wor- 
ship. He  never  entered  a  church  but  once  in  his 
boyhood,  and  that  was  on  the  occasion  of  a 
Christmas-tree  entertainment,  when  he  stole  a 
bag  of  apples.  He  had  never  heard  a  sermon,  he 
had  never  read  a  verse  in  the  Bible,  and  he  did 
not  know  that  Jesus  had  been  crucified.  He  lived 
in  ignorance  and  vice,  a  drunken  sot,  often 
serving  a  sentence  in  jail,  or  working  out  a  term 
on  the  chain-gang.  When  not  in  custody,  he 
walked  the  streets  with  his  toes  showing  through 
his  shoes,  and  his  gray  hair  sticking  out  of  the 
holes  in  his  hat,  and  his  filthy  clothes  patched 
occasionally,  but  ragged  generally. 

When  Mr.  Ernest  asked  if  ony  one  wished  to 
unite  with  the  church,  the  veteran  evil-doer  went 
forward.  Some  shuddered,  while  others  whis- 
pered, "What  meaneth  this?"  Mr.  Ernest,  who 
knew  something  of  the  change  that  had  taken 
place  in  the  aged  sinner,  requested  him  to  relate 
his  Christian  experience.  The  old  man  stood  be- 
fore the  congregation  shaking  as  if  palsied,  lean- 
ing on  a  crooked  stick.     Turning  to  the  preacher 


316  THE    BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

he  said,  accustomed  to  the  phraseology  of  the 
court-house  rather  than  to  that  of  the  church, 
"Please  your  honor,  about  ten  days  ago,  a  con- 
stable (meaning  a  deacon)  come  up  to  me,  an' 
says  he    to  me,    'Midnight,    ain't    you    tired    of 


smnm 


?" 


I'm  tired  of  bein'  hungry,"  says  I. 
"But  sin  is  wus  'n  hunger,"  says  he.    "Don't 
you  want  to  be  saved?" 

"I  dunno,"  says  I.  "What  does  you  mean  by 
bein'  saved?" 

"Trustin'  in  Jesus,  an'  gittin'  help  from  him," 
says  he. 

"Who  is  Jesus?  Seems  like  I  once  hearn  tell 
of  him." 

Then  says  he,  "Jesus  is  God's  Son,  an'  died  long 
ago  to  save  bad  people,  an'  all  of  us  is  bad."  Then 
he  read  from  a  book  about  Jesus,  how  he  come 
to  seek  an'  to  save  them  what  wuz  los'.  I  never 
had  words  to  take  holt  on  me  like  them  words. 
At  fust  I  could  n't  b'lieve  'em.  But  then  it  looked 
like  an'  onseen  hand  gripped  me.  The  man  look- 
ed me  straight  in  the  face,  and  says  he,  "Mid- 
night, stop  you'  evil-doin's  an'  be  a  man.  Stan' 
up  as  if  you  wuz  somebody."  I  says,  "Man,  I'se 
jest  looking  fur  a  chance  to  steal  some  vitals  now. 
How  kin  I  quit  my'  evil  ways  when  nobody  will 
give  a  man  like  me  a  job;  an'  you  know  I  mus' 
have  bread." 


MORAL  MIRACLES.  317 

Says  he  to  me,  in  a  kinder  pleasant  voice, 
"Call  at  my  shop  in  the  mornin',  an'  I'll  give  you 
a  job." 

"I  resolved  right  then  to  lead  a  better  life.  The 
next  day  I  went  to  work  in  the  carpenter's  shop, 
with  a  chisel  in  my  hand,  tryin'  to  earn  a  livin'. 
The  chisel  turned  to  a  serpent.  I  saw  its  eyes 
gazin'  into  mine.  I  knowed  it  wuz  only  my  brain 
reelin'  an'  er  rockin',  an'  it  was  a  sorter  dry 
delirium.  I  knowed  what  I  wanted  wuz  liquor; 
an'  the  hair  on  my  crown  stood  on  eend,  my  eyes 
popped  well  nigh  out  of  my  head,  an'  the  sweat 
in  great  drops  broke  out  all  over  my  body.  The 
serpent  fell  from  my  hand,  an'  like  a  thing  of  life, 
looked  up  out  of  the  shavin's  an'  shot  its  tongue 
into  my  face.  Then  I  give  way,  an'  says  to  my- 
self, 'I  can't  stan'  it;  I  mus'  have  a  drink.  Give 
me  a  drink!'  Just  then,  the  same  good  man 
stepped  to  my  side,  an'  said,  "Midnight,  old 
fellow,  I  know  you  is  havin'  a  hard  fight,  an'  I've 
come  to  say,  stan'  up  like  a  man,  an'  don't  sur- 
render. Be  brave,  old  boy,  an'  it  will  come  out 
all  right.  I  have  the  best  wife  in  the  land,  an' 
she  tole  me  to  tell  you  that  she  had  hot  coffee 
an'  nice  bread,  an'  if  you  will  come  home  with 
me,  she  will  sing  an'  play  for  you.  Stride  the 
serpent,  an'  come  on."  I  put  my  hand  to  my  cold, 
clammy  brow,  an'  says  I,  'I'll  be  a  Christian,  God 


318  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

helpin'  me/    An'  here  I  is,  to  jine  this  church,  if 
you  will  have  me/' 

Thus  Grand  Avenue   Church,   like   every   true 
church,  was  busy  working  moral  miracles. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

BLACK  AB. 

On  a  dark,  narrow  alley  in  Purgatory,  there 
stood  a  hut,  consisting  of  two  apartments,  separ- 
ated by  "curtains"  made  of  refuse  matting  taken 
from  the  ash-barrels  of  the  town.  The  inmates 
of  this  "home"  where  an  old  Irish  woman,  a  negro 
lad  of  twelve  years,  and  four  dogs.  So  numerous 
were  the  oddities,  and  so  fantastic  the  ways,  of 
the  eldest  member  of  the  family,  that  she  was 
known  in  the  alley  as  "the  witch."  One  of  the 
strangest  of  the  witch's  idiosyncrasies  was  her 
intense  aversion  to  cats.  So  great,  indeed,  was 
her  antipathy  to  the  feline  tribe,  and  so  peculiar 
were  the  effects  exerted  upon  her  by  their  pres- 
ence, that  she  was  the  subject  of  a  disease  rather 
than  of  a  caprice.  That  eccentric  malady  some- 
times manifested  itself  in  serious,  though  amus- 
ing ways.  She  seemed  to  possess  a  sort  of  special 
sense,  now  recognized  by  both  the  sciences  of 
psychology  and  medicine,  by  virtue  of  which  she 
could  detect  the  presence  of  a  cat  with  as  infal- 
lible accuracy  as  a  subject  of  hay-fever  is  con- 
scious of  harvest. 


320  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

Since  it  was  unbearable  torture  to  have  a  tabby 
in  the  room  with  her,  the  witch  seldom  spent  a 
night  from  home  for  fear  of  a  catastrophe.  If 
she  chanced  at  a  neighbor's,  her  first  inquiry  on 
reaching  the  gate  was  sure  to  be,  "Do  you  keep 
a  cat?"  In  the  event  that  the  proscribed  animal 
was  found  on  the  premises,  it  had  to  be  impris- 
oned in  a  box  and  lodged  in  an  outhouse  during 
her  visit.  On  one  occasion,  when  the  witch  was 
taking  tea  at  the  house  of  a  back-alley  acquain- 
tance, the  hostess  believing  this  consciousness  of 
cats  to  be  but  a  whim  of  her  venerable  guest's, 
suffered  Sir  Thomas  to  be  released  from  his  con- 
finement and  quietly  and  unobserved  to  take  his 
accustomed  place  under  the  table.  At  once,  as  if 
moved  by  electricity,  the  witch  threw  up  her 
hands,  turned  pale,  and  screamed  in  paroxysms 
of  nervous  agony. 

As  a  protection  against  cats,  she  had  persua- 
ded her  husband,  a  short  time  before  his  death, 
to  introduce  on  the  lot  a  number  of  hounds, 
which  were  allowed  to  sleep  in  the  hut  with  the 
family. 

After  the  death  of  her  consort,  the  witch, 
fancying  that  his  soul  had  entered  into  one  of  the 
hounds,  and  not  knowing  which,  would  never  con- 
sent to  have  a  dog  killed  or  given  away,  for  fear 
of  dishonoring  the  dead.  To  a  negro  boy,  named 
Black  Ab,  was  entrusted  the  charge  of  this  exact- 


BLACK  AB.  321 

ing  branch  of  the  family.  He  was  required  to 
treat  his  wards  as  if  they  were  human,  feed  them 
from  plates,  comb  their  heads,  wash  their  faces, 
and  prepare  each  a  bed;  for  it  would  never  do 
for  her  departed  husband  to  sleep  on  a  door-mat! 
The  venerable  shade  gave  her  canines,  in  one  of 
which  was  the  spirit  of  her  departed  lord,  dessert 
twice  a  week,  while  on  Sunday  she  tied  scarlet 
cravats  around  their  necks,  and  read  Hostetter's 
Almanac  to  them. 

Such  is  the  story  the  people  of  Purgatory  never 
tire  of  telling.  We  are  concerned  with  this  tale 
only  so  far  as  it  introduces  to  us  the  character  of 
Black  Ab. 

After  the  death  of  the  witch,  the  sable  lad, 
fatherless,  motherless,  homeless,  applied  one  day, 
hungry  and  dispirited,  at  Corinne's  Training 
School  for  a  position  as  errand-boy. 

"Is  dis  Miss  Crin  How'd?" 

"Yes;  and  what  is  you  name?" 

"Dey  calls  me  Black  Ab." 

"Oh,  yes;  and  sometimes  they  call  you  'the 
minstrel  of  the  alley',  don't  they?" 

"Sump'n  like  dat  'm.  But  I  got  to  move  'way 
fum  de  alley  now."     And  the  boy  sighed. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter,  Black  Ab?" 

"Habn't  you  hearn  how  dat  de  witch  done 
dead?" 

"Yes,  I  have  heard  of  it.    What  are  you  going 


322  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

to  do  now?" 

"Doan  nome;  dat's  jes  what  I  done  come  fur 
to  see  'bout." 

There  was  an  honest  look  in  the  boy's  eyes,  and 
a  degree  of  intelligence  in  his  face  that  would  at- 
tract attention  anywhere.  And  as  Corinne  scan- 
ned his  striking  features,  she  could  but  wonder 
why  some  wealthy  family  in  Woodville  had  not 
secured  his  services. 

"What  sort  of  work  have  you  been  doing,  Black 
Ab?" 

"Been  wait'n  on  dogs,  'm." 

"What  else  can  you  do?" 

"I  kin  cut  wood,  an'  tote  coal,  an'  sweep  de 
yard,  an'  run  down  de  street,  an'  do  'mos'  any- 
thing dey  wants  me  to  do." 

Calling  to  mind  the  little  African's  reputation 
as  an  alley  songster,  Corinne  asked,  "Can  you 
sing,  Black  Ab?" 

"Yes'm." 

The  young  minstrel  sang  a  negro  love-ditty,  so 
clear,  so  well  sustained,  and  with  such  marvelous 
compass  of  voice,  that  the  children  left  their 
desks,  threw  their  spellers  on  the  floor,  and  rush- 
ed pell-mell  to  the  front,  while  teamsters  stopped 
their  wagons  and  carts,  and  gentlemen  of  means, 
and  ladies  of  culture  paused  to  hear  Woodville's 
richest  melody.  When  the  song  closed,  there  was 
rapturous  applause,  and  a  number  of  coins  were 
thrown  to  the  little  darky. 


Black  Ab. 


BLACK  AB.  325 


<o 


'What  a  master  of  song!"  thought  Corinne. 
"If  only  this  rare  gift  could  be  made  to  do  service 
for  our  Christ!" 

Black  Ab  was  employed  in  the  Training  School. 
His  first  errand  was  to  the  hardware  store  for 
some  panes  of  glass  needed  fo>  repairs.  His 
route  led  him  through  the  "black  district"  where 
he  came  upon  a  score  of  little  Africans  playing 
marbles.  Their  leader  was  one  Racket,  a  copper- 
skin,  about  Black  Ab's  age,  and  a  little  his  supe- 
rior in  size.  Racket  was  the  bully  of  the  district, 
pranky,  daring,  tyrannical.  Since  the  other  boys 
were  afraid  of  him,  they  accorded  him  the  honors 
due  a  young  prince.  As  soon  as  Black  Ab  came 
in  sight,  Racket  determined  to  domineer  over 
him,  and  began  at  once  to  pick  a  quarrel. 

"You'se  de  blackes'  nigger  I  ever  see,"  mutter- 
ed Racket  angrily  as  the  errand-boy  approached, 
at  the  same  time  swelling  himself  out  like  a  young 
bullock  preparing  for  hostilities. 

"I  had  ruther  be  black  dan  er  yaller  ape,"  re- 
plied Black  Ab  pluckily. 

All  the  sable  urchins,  with  the  whites  of  their 
eyes  conspicuous,  gathered  around  the  combat- 
ants; for  nothing  was  of  so  much  importance  to 
a  tribe  of  negro  lads  as  a  first-class  fisticuff.  Roll- 
ing their  eyes  and  putting  their  hands  into  their 
pockets,  they  gazed  upon  the  antagonists  with  un- 
told admiration.  But  it  was  all  the  while  amazing 


326  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

to  them  that  any  boy  should  dare  dispute  the  field 
with  the  champion  of  the  neighborhood,  who  as 
yet  had  never  been  whipped. 

"No  strange  nigger  gwine  ter  pass  th'ough 
dese  here  primuses,  'cep'n  he  gits  on  his  knees  an' 
axes  my  pardon  fust.  An'  ef  he  doan  do  dat,  he 
gwine  to  get  er  brushin',"  ejaculated  the  bully. 

"An'  ef  you  doan  shet  up  you  fly-trap,  I'se 
gwine  ter  baptize  you  wid  er  lickm',"  gravely  re- 
torted the  alley  minstrel. 

On  hearing  these  bold  words,  Racket  threw 
down  the  gauntlet  for  immediate  battle.  Now  it 
was  a  custom  among  the  blacks  for  the  challeng- 
ing party  to  put  a  chip  upon  his  head,  turn  round 
three  times,  and  dare  the  other  side  to  knock  it 
off.  Not  to  displace  the  chip  was  cowardice;  to 
knock  it  off  was  a  fight.  So,  as  the  bully  turned 
with  the  chip  balanced  on  his  head,  he  gave  the 
haughty  challenge,  which  Black  Ab  accepted  by 
sending  the  wooden  symbol  whizzing  through  the 
air.  A  fierce  struggle  ensued.  Inasmuch  as  the 
contestants  were  nearly  equally  matched,  the 
fight  was  long  and  severe.  Black  Ab  succeeded 
finally,  however,  in  inflicting  a  blow  on  Racket's 
temple  that  felled  him  to  the  ground.  Following 
up  this  master-stroke,  he  placed  his  knees  on  the 
bully's  arms,  butting  him  in  the  face  so  furiously 
that  the  copper-skin  threw  up  the  sponge,  and  in 
yells  of  agony  yielded  the  palm. 


BLACK  AB.  327 

One  of  the  spectators,  eyeing  the  victor  with 
unmeasured  wonder,  voiced  the  sentiment  of  his 
fellows,  exclaiming,  "Gemmens,  dat's  er  nigger 
fum  back  yonder!" 

When  Black  Ab  returned,  Corinne,  observing 
his  battered  appearance,  and  suspecting  some- 
thing had  gone  wrong  down  the  street,  began  to 
investigate  the  conduct  of  her  minstrel,  as  the 
circumstances  seemed  to  justify. 

"Miss  Crin,"  stammered  the  lad,  rolling  ner- 
vously the  whites  of  his  eyes,  "clar  gracious  I 
ain't  done  nothin'  'cept  lick  dat  sassy  yaller 
nigger  what  dey  calls  Racket." 

"And  you  got  into  a  street  fight,  then?" 

"Yes'm;  jes  er  scrimmage,  es  yer  mought  say. 
An'  fuddermo,  Miss  Crin,  dat  yaller  nigger  tacted 
me  in  de  broad  daylight,  an'  I  had  ter  offend 
myse'f." 

Corinne,  knowing  the  bad  character  of  Racket, 
felt  that  Black  Ab  was  justified;  still,  she  took 
advantage  of  the  occasion  to  deliver  a  lecture  on 
peace  and  prudence. 

The  little  negro  became  a  general  favorite  in 
the  Training  School,  discharging  his  several 
duties  faithfully,  and  receiving  private  instruc- 
tion from  the  best  of  teachers.  He  was  especially 
quick  to  imbibe  religious  truth  and  the  hymns. 
It  was  not  long  before  he  gave  his  heart  to  the 
Saviour  and  became  a  shining  light. 


328  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

With  one  great  object  in  view,  Corinne  im- 
pressed upon  Black  Ab's  mind  the  religious  needs 
of  Africa,  and  had  him  carefully  trained  in  all 
departments  of  sacred  music.  She  purchased, 
moreover,  two  excellent  instruments  for  him,  a 
guitar  and  a  mandolin,  in  order  that  he  might  be 
able  to  furnish  his  own  accompaniments.  These 
pieces  he  mastered  as  by  intuition. 

One  afternoon  Corinne  Howard  called  at  the 
Blalocks',  and  unceremoniously  ran  up  stairs  with- 
out waiting  for  an  invitation.  She  found  Maud 
in  her  room  planning  to  enlarge  her  work. 

"Maud,"  said  she,  "I  shall  close  my  labor  with 
the  'Infant  Mob'  next  week;  and  I  have  come  to 
ask  you  to  take  it.  It  has  been  not  only  a  joy, 
but  a  priceless  blessing  to  me.  I  believe  the  finger 
of  the  Master  has  pointed  me  to  you  as  my  suc- 
cessor. 

"0  Corinne  Howard !  I  am  utterly  incapable  of 
such  a  task — and  then,  why  do  you  give  up  the 
work,  pray?" 

"Because  I  shall  leave  Woodville  in  a  few 
weeks.  I  am  sure,  Maud,  you  are  not  only  fitted 
for  taking  the  work,  but  also  for  carrying  it  on 
to  yet  greater  success." 

"I  shall,  then,  try  to  do  my  best ;  but  dear,  dear 
Corinne,  why  do  you  leave  Woodville?" 

"Because  I  wish  to  do  mission  work  in  the 
valley  of  the  Congo." 


BLACK  AB.  329 


Maud  clasped  Corinne  in  her  arms,  and  burst 
into  passionate  weeping.  Many  things  came  to 
her  mind,  and  among  them,  the  question,  "What 
about  Dr.  Foster?"  They  had  long  been  lovers. 
So,  after  a  protracted  pause,  Maud  ventured  to 
ask,  "Will  he  go  with  you?" 

"Yes — Black  Ab,"  answered  Corinne. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  FINEST  OF  THE  WHEAT. 

The  cause  of  missions  lay  heavy  on  John 
Ernest's  heart.  He  had  faithfully  proclaimed  the 
church's  duty  to  the  foreign  work,  but  was  pain- 
ed to  see  that  his  flock  answered  in  contributions 
rather  than  in  missionaries.  The  pastor  knew 
full  well  that  no  church  can  do  the  will  of  Christ 
without  prosecuting  the  work  abroad ;  and,  more- 
over, that  no  home  interest  can  reach  its  goal 
without  active  connection  with  the  foreign  field. 
In  view  of  these  facts,  he  resolved  to  turn  the 
Sunday  evening  service  into  a  missionary  mass- 
meeting,  hoping  to  arouse  some  of  his  folk  to  a 
sense  of  their  obligation  to  the  benighted  peoples 
of  the  earth. 

Mr.  Ernest  entered  the  pulpit  with  a  burden 
weighing  on  his  soul  and  a  shadow  resting  on  his 
face ;  for  the  weal  of  lost  humanity  was  dearer  to 
him  than  his  own  life.  Suppose  no  one  should 
respond — and  he  had  no  intimation  that  there 
would  be  any  response — how  could  he  endure  the 
disappointment?  He  had  looked  for  a  great 
quickening  in  his  congregation  touching  the  evan- 


THE  FINEST  OF  THE  WHEAT.  331 

gelization  of  the  world  as  the  climax  of  his  min- 
istry at  Grand  Avenue  Church;  yet,  so  far,  they 
had  given  only  money  instead  of  men.  He  made 
an  impassioned  appeal,  saying,  "The  foreign 
work  is  emphasized  by  three  facts:  1.  Christ's 
last  command  enjoined  the  evangelization  of  the 
nations.  After  he  had  risen  from  the  dead,  just 
on  the  eve  of  going  to  the  Father,  the  Saviour 
of  mankind  said,  'Go  ye  therefore,  and  make  dis- 
ciples of  all  the  nations;'  as  if  the  salvation  of 
the  heathen  were  his  last  thought,  the  one  su- 
preme burden  of  his  heart.  Thus  the  Master  left 
the  earth  with  missions  ringing  in  the  ears  of  his 
disciples.  2.  Christ  sent  his  greatest  apostle  to 
the  Gentiles.  Paul  was  a  foreign  missionary. 
Jesus  did  not  intend  that  we  should  send  our 
poorest  preachers  and  workers  to  the  richest 
fields,  but  that  we  should  offer  our  best.  There  is 
no  work  more  important,  and  there  is  no  reward 
greater,  than  that  of  the  missionary;  hence,  we 
should  be  willing,  if  God  calls,  to  give  ourselves, 
or  the  brightest  and  loveliest  of  our  children.  3. 
The  foreign  work  bears  the  unmistakable  im- 
press of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  mission  field  has, 
from  the  beginning,  developed  the  most  Christ- 
like characters;  such  as  Paul,  Carey,  Judson, 
David  Livingstone,  David  Brainerd,  and  hun- 
dreds of  others,  though  less  noted,  yet  of  like 
spirit  and  purpose." 


332  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

Then  the  preacher,  with  face  blazing  with 
enthusiasm,  asked,  "Is  there  not  one  out  of  all 
this  vast  audience  that  will  volunteer  for  the  for- 
eign field?  Is  there  not  one  that  will  bear  the 
Saviour's  message  of  life  to  the  perishing? 
Think,  dear  soul,  think!  You  owe  your  every 
hope  of  heaven  to  Jesus.  Then,  will  you  not  show 
your  gratitude  by  telling  the  lost  millions  the 
story  of  his  love?  Will  you  see  them  die  while 
you  have  the  knowledge  that  will  save  them? 
Could  you  enjoy  heaven,  when  you  had  refused 
to  help  your  fellow-kind  to  reach  it?  Be  silent  a 
moment.  Is  not  the  Redeemer  pleading  with  you? 
Listen  well — he  speaks* — will  you  go?" 

The  preacher  uttered  these  words  as  if  he  were 
pleading  for  a  man's  life ;  and  indeed  he  was ;  yea, 
for  many  lives.  The  great  congregation  was 
hushed  into  breathless  silence.  The  very  pulses 
of  the  people  seemed  to  cease  their  throbbing; 
and,  as  many  who  were  present  said  afterwards, 
with  a  little  clearer  spiritual  vision,  the  audience 
might  have  seen  the  Spirit  of  God  brooding 
over  it. 

Mr.  Ernest  called  for  a  voluntary  prayer. 

Dr.  Foster  responded,  tenderly  beseeching  the 
gracious  Father  to  awaken  in  each  believer  in- 
terest in  missions.  He  prayed  that  all  hearts 
might  be  touched,  all  minds  illuminated  by  the 
Spirit  of  God;  that   each    soul   might   hear   the 


THE  FINEST  OF  THE  WHEAT.  333 

divine    voice    speaking    to    it;    that    the    entire 

church  might  become  submissive  to  the  will  of 

the  Lord ;  and  that  all  obstacles  to  the  advance  of 

the  kingdom  might  be  removed.     Then  he  closed 

the  prayer   with   a   few   earnest   petitions   that 

seemed  to  rise  like  successive  billows  of  the  sea, 

and  beat  witl.  celestial  melody  against  the  throne. 
"0  thou  Redeemer  of  men,  look  in  pity  upon  dead 
heathenism.  In  thy  infinite  power  and  love, 
liberate  mankind  from  the  chains  of  superstition 
and  the  bondage  of  idolatry.  Claim  the  nations 
for  thine  own,  and  fill  the  earth  with  thy  glory. 
Gracious  God,  let  none  of  us  stand  in  the  way  of 
thy  Kingdom's  coming.  Inasmuch  as  thy  favor  is 
better  than  life,  forbid  that  any  of  us  should  re- 
fuse to  serve  thee  in  whatsover  part  of  the  earth 
thou  dost  open  to  us  a  door.  Let  no  sordid  con- 
sideration, no  desire  of  gain,  or  love  of  ease,  no 
ambition,  keep  us  from  hearing  and  obeying  thy 
voice,  if  thou  condescend  to  use  us  in  the  foreign 
field.  Now,  Lord  God,  take  us,  take  our  loved 
ones,  take  the  finest  of  the  wheat;  and  ours  will 
be  the  joy,  and  thine  the  glory,  through  Jesus, 
thy  Son  and  our  Saviour.    Amen." 

John  Ernest  remained  on  his  knees  some  mo- 
ments; then  rising,  and  turning  to  the  congrega- 
tion, said  with  peculiar  pathos,  "Has  the  Lord  of 
the  vineyard  one  here  whom  he  has  set  apart 


334  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

for  work  among  the  heathen?     If  so,  will  you 
please  rise  at  your  seat?" 
Corinne  Howard  arose. 

Dr.  Foster  started  as  he  saw  her.  He  was  as 
pale  as  death — his  prayer  was  answered — the 
Lord  had  taken  "the  finest  of  the  wheat;"  had 
chosen  the  woman  he  loved.  Was  he  really  will- 
ing to  abide  by  his  own  prayer?  Was  he  willing 
to  give  up  Corinne  for  the  sake  of  Jesus? — And 
there  was  a  raging  fire,  a  darkening  chaos,  a  tragic 
struggle  in  the  heart  of  the  beloved  physician. 

There  was  another  that  stood,  but  unobserved, 
till  a  low  voice  from  the  gallery  inquired,  "Ain't 
you  seed  me,  Mist'  Ernest?  " 

The  minister  looked  up,  and  there  was  Black 
Ab  standing,  and  rolling  the  whites  of  his  eyes. 
"What  is  it,  Black  Ab?"  said  Ernest  kindly. 
"I'se  gwine  fur  to  go  es  er  mishnery  wid  Miss 
Crin." 

As  all  eyes  turned  towards  the  little  darky, 
there  was  a  universal  titter. 

"Do  you  feel  that  the  Lord  has  called  you 
Black  Ab?" 

"How  come  de  Lo'd  ain't  called  me,  Mist* 
Ernest?  Ain't  I  hearn  Miss  Crin  say  how  de 
Lo'd  needs  different  sort  of  folks  to  do  his  wo'k; 
some  to  preach,  an'  some  to  pray,  an'  some  to  nus, 
an'  some  to  docter,  an'  some  to  teach,  an'  some  to 
sing,  an'  de  like  er  dat?" 


THE  FINEST  OF  THE  WHEAT.  335 

"What  do  you  think  a  boy  like  you  could  do, 
Black  Ab?" 

"Ax  Miss  Crin  what  I  kin  do.  I  kin  wait  on 
her,  an'  I  kin  tell  de  folks  dat  what  dey  needs  is 
er  Saver,  'cause  he  done  saved  me.  An'  den,  I 
speck  I  kin  sing  in  de  meetin's.    Dat,  sah,  is  what 

I  kin  do."     And  his  lips  quivered,  and  his  eyes 
filled  with  tears. 

Ever  quick  to  recognize  the  Lord's  hand,  Mr. 
Ernest  remarked,  "I  think  I  see  the  wisdom  of 
divine  providence  in  bringing  this  lad  under  the 
influences  of  the  Training  School,  where  he  be- 
came impressed  with  the  missionary  idea.  In  at- 
tracting and  holding  the  restless  pagan  multi- 
tudes by  means  of  his  splendid  musical  gifts,  he 
will  prove  invaluable  to  Miss  Howard.  The 
heathen  will  listen  to  a  song  when  all  else  fails  to 
interest  them.  I  trust  the  calling  of  this  boy  in- 
dicates our  heavenly  Father's  purpose  to  use  the 
colored  people  to  help  evangelize  their  own  race 
in  Africa." 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Ernest  ceased  speaking,  there 
were  enthusiastic  cries  all  over  the  church  for  a 
solo  from  Black  Ab.  The  little  negro  seemed 
affrighted,  until  Corinne  beckoned  to  him,  and  led 
the  way  to  the  rostrum.  He  faced  the  audience, 
rolled  the  whites  of  his  eyes  a  few  times  as  if  con- 
fused, then  sang: 


336  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

"Fum  Greenlum's  icy  mountains, 

Fum  Injia's  colored  stran's, 
Whar  Afka's  sunny  fountains 

Roll  down  deir  golden  san's; 
Fum  many  er  ancient  riber, 

Fum  many  er  palmy  plains, 
Dey  calls  us  to  deliber 

Deir  Ian'  fum  urrer's  chains." 

Amid  death-like  stillness,  and  with  original 
variations,  Black  Ab  sang  the  classic  hymn 
through.  Never  had  it  been  so  rendered  in  Grand 
Avenue  Church.  Woodville's  choicest  octets  and 
chorus  choirs  had  charmed  the  congregation,  and 
European  prima  donnas  had  created  their  sensa- 
tions in  rendering  this  old  standard,  but  never 
had  that  fashionable  audience  been  so  complete- 
ly captured  by  a  singer,  nor  had  the  spell  of 
sacred  song  ever  been  so  potent.  When  the  last 
words  fell  from  those  childish  lips,  the  vast  con- 
course of  hearers  was  bending  forward  to  catch 
each  perfect  note.  Then,  as  with  a  single  im- 
pulse, fashionable  ladies,  under  the  blaze  of  dia- 
monds, and  men  worth  their  millions,  pressed  to 
the  front  to  grasp  the  hand  of  the  alley  minstrel. 

The  great  attraction  of  the  evening,  however, 
was  not  the  musical  prodigy,  but  Corinne  Howard 
herself,  the  leading  missionary  spirit  of  the  flock. 
The  members  gathered  round  her  with  mingled 


THE  FINEST  OF  THE  WHEAT.  337 

tears  and  smiles,  extending  their  heartiest  con- 
gratulations on  her  being  chosen  by  the  great 
Head  of  the  Church  as  the  worthiest  of  the  fold. 

Next  evening,  as  Corinne  was  studying  a  large 
map  of  the  Congo  valley,  together  with  the  his- 
tory of  its  people  and  the  mission  there,  Dr. 
Foster  was  ushered  into  the  cozy  drawing-room. 
Corinne  advanced,  and  slightly  coloring,  kindly 
greeted  him. 

"And  here  you  are,  Miss  Corinne,  really  pre- 
paring to  leave  us!  One  would  not  have  thought 
you  could  be  so  exquisitely  cruel."  And  there 
was  a  quaver  in  the  physician's  voice. 

"But,  Dr.  Foster,  would  it  not  be  more  cruel  to 
suffer  the  people  of  the  Congo  to  die  unblest, 
when  it  may  be  in  my  power  to  win  them  to  the 
cross?" 

"Miss  Corinne,  I  admire  your  sublime  faith 
and  splendid  purpose;  yet,  I  must  confess  that 
when  I  saw  you  stand  last  night  in  response  to 
the  pastor's  invitation,  I  shuddered.  And  under 
the  dominance  of  my  selfish  nature,  I  was  for  a 
moment  sorry." 

"Why,  Dr.  Foster!  Sorry  to  see  me  discharge 
my  duty  to  God's  fallen  creatures — sorry  to  see 
me  obey  our  Saviour's  last  command?  That  sen- 
timent does  not  become  my  noble  self-sacrificing 
fellow-laborer  of  the  past."     The  beautiful  girl, 


338  THE   BRIDE'S    RETURN. 

remembering  the  "past,"  blushed,  and  bent  her 
head  towards  the  floor. 

"Corinne,  that  is  my  only  grief — that  I  must 
be  reckoned  as  a  fellow-laborer  of  the  past."  And 
there  was  a  pause.  "I  would  give  the  world  to  be 
a  co-worker  of  the  future."  And  there  was  a 
longer  pause.  At  length,  Dr.  Foster  resumed, 
"When  I  learned  your  determination  to  devote 
your  life  to  the  Master's  service  in  the  foreign 
field,  after  the  first  strong  impulse  to  seek  to 
dissuade  you,  I  resolved  to  call  at  once  and  to 
declare  what  has  been  in  my  heart  since  the  be- 
ginning of  our  work  in  Purgatory.  This  seems 
due  both  to  me  and  to  you.  I  have  long  admired 
you,  and  my  admiration  has  ripened  into  tender- 
est  love.  Yet,  while  I  feel  that  I  can  never  ask 
any  other  woman  to  be  my  wife,  I  also  feel  that 
it  would  be  selfish,  and  also  distrustful  of  the 
divine  providence,  even  to  suggest  marriage  to 
you  under  conditions  that  would  seem  to  conflict 
with  your  call  to  missionary  labor.  The  light  of 
my  life  has  gone  out,  and  the  hope  of  my  heart 
is  dead;  yet,  though  sick  and  suffering,  I  would 
rather  sink  into  my  grave  than  stand  in  the  way 
of  the  Redeemer's  plan.  As  much  as  I  love  you, 
as  much  as  my  happiness  depends  on  your  love 
in  return,  I  here  and  now  surrender  all  that  could 
in  a  material  way,  gladden  my  heart  and  brighten 
my  home.     I  rejoice  in  your  heroism,  and  shall 


THE  FINEST  OF  THE   WHEAT.  339 

never  cease  to  pray  for  the  success  of  your  work." 
Corinne  Howard,  knowing  that  Dr.  Foster  loved 
her  with  the  holiest  passion,  as  her  eyes  met  his, 
recognized  in  him  the  noblest  of  men,  and  the 
very  impersonation  of  honor  and  faith.  She  did 
not  try  to  hide  from  herself  the  fact  that  she 
cared  for  the  man  that  faced  her.  While  she 
duly  estimated  the  exalted  self-surrender  that 
caused  him  to  lay  on  the  altar  the  woman  he  lov- 
ed, she  also  realized  the  untold  sacrifice  she  was 
making  in  rendering  it  impossible  for  her  ever 
to  be  the  wife  of  such  a  man. 

At  length  she  broke  the  silence  in  a  sweet,  low 
voice:  "Dr.  Foster,  I  appreciate  all  you  have 
said.  I  have  always  admired  your  stalwart  char- 
acter and  your  Christian  heroism.  And  I  think 
it  not  unwomanly  to  say,  that  in  coming  to  my 
decision,  I  too  have  had  to  struggle.  I  have 
fought  with  my  own  heart.  The  bark  of  my  af- 
fection has  been  buffeted  by  the  waves  of  troubled 
seas,  amid  starless  nights  and  unpitying  tem- 
pests; so  the  step  I  have  taken  is  due  solely  to 
the  fact  that  Christ  has  the  first  claim  on  my 
life.  But  it  has  cost  me  dear."  And  alternate 
pallor  and  crimson  mantled  on  her  cheeks. 

For  a  moment,  Dr.  Foster  gazed  silently  at 
Corinne,  whose  naturally  bright  and  joyous  face 
now  evinced  the  severity  of  the  storm  that  raged 
within.    Had  he  never  loved  her  before,  he  could 


340  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

but  love  her  now.  He  took  her  hand  in  his  and 
they  both  knelt  down  together.  At  first  he  could 
not  speak.  As  they  lifted  their  disengaged 
hands,  their  moistened  eyes  turned  upward,  the 
lover  prayed :  "Our  Father,  we  yield  to  thy  right- 
eous providence.  We  love  thee  supremely.  Thy 
ways  are  all  equal.  In  this  trying  hour  make  thy 
grace  sufficient  for  us.  Hold  thou  us  up.  Thy 
will,  not  ours,  be  done.  Use  us  for  thy  glory, 
even  though  all  our  cherished  hopes  be  shattered. 
Bind  us,  when  separated  by  the  diameter  of  the 
earth,  into  a  loving  union  not  to  be  dissolved  till 
death  us  do  part.  And  to  this  end,  we  thy  ser- 
vants, pledge  our  hearts  each  to  the  other,  es- 
chewing all  other  alliance  while  life  lasts.  Amen." 

And  Corinne,  with  voice  full  of  chastened  mel- 
ody, repeated,  "Amen." 

The  door-bell  rang.    John  Ernest  entered. 

"Why,  Dr.  Foster !  I  have  been  looking  for  you 
all  the  evening.  At  last  I  concluded  you  might 
be  here  talking  with  Corinne  over  your  trip  to 
Africa.  Ever  since  you  offered  that  prayer  last 
night,  I  have  felt  that  you  are  the  Lord's  mis- 
sionary; and  I  have  been  praising  God  all  day." 

Corinne  reddened,  and  her  face  betrayed  a  good 
degree  of  satisfaction  in  what  the  pastor  said. 

With  unwonted  embarrassment,  the  physician 
answered,  "Mr.  Ernest,  it  will  be  forevermore  a 
source  of  regret  that  I  am  not  worthy  to  go  my- 


THE  FINEST  OF  THE  WHEAT.  341 

self  abroad  in  the  Master's  service.  I  have  often 
thought  about  my  duty  in  this  particular,  but  I 
am  always  discouraged  by  the  fact  that  I  lack 
the  requisite  qualifications." 

"Nonsense!"  rejoined  the  pastor.  "I  know  of 
no  one  that  has  greater  fitness  for  mission  work. 
You  are  a  skilful  physician;  and  as  such  would 
have  access  to  the  natives  as  Corinne  would  not, 
or  even  a  minister.  Your  adaptation  to  the  work 
was  amply  demonstrated  in  Purgatory,  and  you 
have,  further,  received  excellent  instruction  at 
the  hands  of  Corinne.  Then,  Foster,  don't  you 
know  that  the  Lord  never  calls  to  the  mission 
field  a  man's  sweetheart  without  calling  the  man 
too?  Do  you  suppose  the  Master  is  going  to 
suffer  the  earnest  prayers  of  this  girl  to  be 
thwarted  just  because  you  won't  open  your  eyes 
to  the  providences,  all  around  you?  Begin  pack- 
ing your  trunk  in  the  morning,  and  be  sure  to 
ieave  a  plenty  of  space  for  bridal  presents." 

After  teasing  Corinne  a  bit,  the  pastor  left  the 
room  with  a  kindly  bow. 

In  accepting  the  minister's  interpretation  of  di- 
vine providence,  the  lovers  felt  a  great  burden 
fall  from  them,  and  saw,  in  the  flood  of  light 
that  now  rolled  across  their  pathway,  the  ways 
of  God,  and  his  gracious  answer  to  their  united 
prayer. 

Grand  Avenue  Church  set  to  work  at  once  to 


342  THE   BRIDE'S   RETURN. 

arrange  for  a  farewell  service  in  honor  of  its  first 
missionaries.  At  length  the  happy  morning  dawn- 
ed. It  was  ten  o'clock.  The  church  was  elabor- 
ately and  beautifully  decorated ;  festoons  of  ever- 
greens, flecked  with  flowers,  and  wreaths  of  roses 
gave  a  very  rich  and  bright  appearance  to  the 
edifice,  while  the  pulpit  was  adorned  with  potted 
plants  of  unusual  loveliness.  Above  the  seats 
which  had  been  so  punctually  occupied  in  by-gone 
days  by  Dr.  Foster  and  Corinne,  the  one  on  the 
left  of  the  center  aisle,  the  other  on  the  right, 
were  suspended  crowns  of  large  white  rosebuds 
on  a  ground  of  blue  silk.  The  'infant  mob'  of 
Purgatory,  no  longer  a  mob,  but  a  band  of  neatly 
dressed  boys  and  girls,  many  of  them  members  of 
Grand  Avenue  Church,  had  the  place  of  honor  in 
pews  reserved  for  them  in  front  of  the  pulpit. 

Dr.  Foster,  with  Corinne  smiling  on  his  arm, 
walked  up  the  aisle  while  the  wedding  march 
sounded  softly.  As  the  sweet  notes  of  the  music 
died  away,  Mr.  Ernest  performed  the  solemn 
marriage  ceremony  with  singular  impressiveness, 
concluding  the  service  with  a  prayer  so  simple,  so 
beautiful,  so  touching,  that  all  hearts  throbbed 
and  all  eyes  wept. 

Dr.  and  Mrs.  Foster  left  Woodville  at  once  en 
route  for  the  Congo  valley.  As  they  took  the 
train,  Black  Ab  followed,  showing  his  joy  at  be- 
ing himself  a  missionary  by  revealing  his  ivory 
teeth,  and  rolling,  as  ever,  the  whites  of  his  eyes. 


The  Wedding  March  Sounded  Softly, 


